Crimson and Ebony
by l'homme Beau
Summary: Slight AU. After dreams of red-on-black, a little girl discovers her true identity. She learns to keep her distance from the charms of a man, makes friends with her opposites, and trusts the untrustworthy. Meanwhile, the man discovers his own limitations.
1. What's in a name?

Please read and review if you like the story or want to see it go in another direction!

Disclaimer: I own no rights of any kind to any X-Men character, storyline, etc. Though I could probably win them off of their owners in a good card game. C'mon, give me a chance. ;]

Mail: m[dot]remylebeau[at]gmail[dot]com

—  
>Ch 1―What's in a name?<br>—

She awoke with a start. A red on black flash floated across her vision for a second before she gasped out for air, feeling as if she'd been holding her breath throughout the entire dream―or was it a nightmare?

Lola Mae Hammond had been having having the same old recurring dream of an unknown woman's soft face for the last few months, probably due to too much stress for a 6-year-old child to handle. She'd been taken to yet another foster home with yet another set of foster parents that either acted like she didn't exist, or were so used to the foster routine that they let her do whatever she wanted just so she was out of their hair.

At first, she thought she might have met some decent folk when Sharon and Joseph Waldrep agreed to take her in. Sharon was all smiles and Joseph shook her small hand while giving her a wink, commenting on her firm grip. She swallowed the giggle that threatened to spill past her lips, keeping quiet as the rest of the paperwork was signed. She'd left that day with only a small pack of a few belongings and a grubby old bear that had kept her company throughout the years.

Almost two years later, Lola Mae felt like she was the most invisible girl in the world. Although the Waldreps had a pretty big house with three bedrooms and three full baths, each room seemed cold and callous. They hadn't taken on any other foster kids while she was with them. Her room was bare as the day she arrived and she hadn't felt like she was welcome to decorate it with trinkets or pictures.

The only hint of warmth was the park a ways down the dirt road…

—

One day when she was walking down that dirt road, Lola Mae kicked a hefty-sized rock as she stared at the dusty gravel and sun-beaten dirt. After walking for Lord knew how long, she found herself stepping on small pools of sand, for lack of a better term.

"Hey!" shouted an indignant, rather high pitched voice.

"Wha―" she looked up in surprise, jade green eyes widening as she fixed the boy with her shocked look.

"Watch whatcha doin'! I ain't here to be thrown rocks at!" The boy crossed his arms over his small chest, puffing it out and practically pouting at her.

"Ah'm sorreh," she began, but he just stuck his tongue out at her and ran in the opposite direction.

Her head shook as she tried not to become annoyed. She wasn't 2 or 3 anymore, she reasoned. _No need t' be gettin' in a huff_, she reminded herself. Even at 8, she still felt her temper setting off at the smallest of incidences.

—

The next day found Lola Mae walking the same dirt road, her teddy hanging from her left hand and a small, tattered book hovering a few inches from her face.

That same boy was at the park again today, sitting in a large pool of sand, hands leaned back and head tilted to the side.

"Whatcha readin'?" he called out.

Her body halted and she visibly shook in surprise, dropping her teddy and whipping the book toward her chest. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut before shouting:

"Will ya quit shoutin' lahk that? Dern near gave a girl a heart attack!"

Opening her eyes, her brows knit together as she picked up her teddy and turned, intending to walk away.

"Wa―wait!" the boy called out, scrambling up from his position and running a few yards after her, until he got close enough to tug her auburn ponytail.

"Ouch!" she cried, spinning around to smack his hand away with her book. "Don't ya be touchin' mah hair lahk that!"

Before he gave her a chance to leave again, he snatched the little book out of her hands and tried to read the front cover. It was so worn that he barely made out the words:

"Ba-ht―Bayt-un Roh-ug?" he attempted, before she snatched it back.

Lola Mae glared at the boy. "It's pronounced 'BAT-UN ROOJ' ya dummy! And t'ain't nun'a ya bi'ness 'bout mah book!" her accent running thicker as her temper ran higher.

"Ha, naw," he said, cracking a lopsided grin, "that must be sayin' somethin' else. Lahk… what that name, what mama call paw… yeah!" He punched his fist in the air, triumph in his eyes, "'Blast'd rogue!' She done call'd him a dirty rogue last time he trode in home late, lookin' a right awful mess."

She huffed and turned back toward the Waldreps' as the boy laughed at her from behind.

"See ya later, Rogue!"

Lola Mae's ears lit up a bright, angry red as she stomped back home.

—

The Waldreps turned out to be a much longer foster family than she'd thought they would be. At age 12, she was just finishing the 8th grade at Murphy Elementary. Her teachers were impressed by her enthusiasm for reading and oral skills, and had bumped her up a grade, which hardly made the Waldreps bat an eyelash.

Summer vacation was slow and somewhat uncertain for Lola Mae. She'd be starting a new grade soon, and moving on to an entirely new school just west of the Fawn Bayou, her favorite place to imagine from her window.

One balmy night during her summer vacation, around the first week of July, Lola Mae was lying in bed, arms thrown up against her pillow which was deformed and flattened under her back. She was writhing like a catfish out of water, desperate for life, and her hands slapped around tangled up in the plain cotton sheets. Eyes squeezed shut, her whimpers floated upon the warm summer air filtering in through her open window.

_A man was shouting so loud it hurt her ears. She covered them with dirty little hands, eyes scrunched up and knees pulled up to her chest. She was hiding under the kitchen table, tucked away inside a dingy cupboard. The woman's cries were penetrating through her hands and the girl shook her head, trying to get the horrible sounds out of her head._

"_Git yer ass back here!" He yelled again before a loud smack resounded in the girl's ears. It sounded like whatever he hit had landed into the wall with a dull thudding sound, and then there was silence._

_Her eyes opened a tiny bit and she started to pull her hands away from her ears, hoping that the yelling was over._

"_ANNA MARIE!" the man shouted, and the little girl hugged her knees tightly while squeezing herself back as hard as she could against the inside corner of the cupboard, heart pounding so hard she could barely breathe._

Lola Mae let out a scream that woke her up from her dream. Still feeling its effects, she struggled against something that bound her hands and shook like a terrified bird when she couldn't get free. Her eyes were so dry that she couldn't shed any tears. They'd long been dried out by the events that occurred throughout her life, so that she promised herself she'd never cry again if she could help it.

Finally looking around, she noticed that she was in a familiar room. Her wide eyes traveled down to her right, then her left, and she saw the sheets twisted tightly around her wrists. She controlled her breathing when she realized that was the cause for her inability to escape, and when she relaxed and scooted herself down the bed, the sheets loosened enough for her hands to pull free.

Pulling her knees up into her chest, both arms wrapped around them and she rested her small chin against her knees, staring out the open window toward the bayou in the distance. She imagined its mist slowly swirling over the stagnant water in the hot night air, almost as though a breeze was picking it up.

"Anna Marie…" she whispered aloud, wondering why that name struck a nerve in her. The little girl in her dream couldn't have been more than 2 or 3, but she was so terrified of that man…

Of course, who wouldn't be, when she'd heard what she thought she had. Was he some family friend? Or an uncle? Or―

Eyes widening again, she made the obvious connection: he's _her daddy. But why would he be so dern mean to his own daught―_her whole body was covered in shivers before she could finish the thought.

Tonight was a night full of confusion. Reluctant, but so very fatigued, Lola Mae crawled back up her bed and moved her pillow to the head of the bed, trying without success to fluff up the long flattened thing. Her auburn head fell back against it with a sigh and her jade green eyes closed for a second time that night.

—

Her next night's rest proved to be just as interrupted as the prior one had been. Lola Mae's head shot up and her chest heaved as she awakened from the same dream. This time, she saw a shadow coming up toward the cupboard the little girl was hiding in, and she could smell the stench of some heavy liquor on his breath, but she hadn't seen his face.

Trying to calm down, she placed a hand at her forehead and encountered several beads of perspiration, which she wiped against her limp sheets before tossing them off and standing up. The worn out wooden floorboards creaked a bit so she tip-toed toward her simple wooden desk to the left of her bed.

When the small desk light came on, she pulled out a plain black book from the top drawer, and the nub of a pencil from the front of the rubber band tightly drawn against the book to keep it shut.

**July 6th**

**Had that dream again. More like a nightmare. Poor little child, frightened near to death. Couldn't make out the ogre's face, but it sho' ain't nothin' to look at if that girl's terrified reaction's got anything to say.**

**Is the little girl Anna Marie? Or is he yellin' at some neighbor or someone else in the house? And why does that name give me chills ever'time I―**

Lola Mae stopped writing at that moment, experiencing yet another reaction to the name. Trying to shake it off, she stopped the journal entry and instead signed the bottom left "LMH" before snapping the rubber band back on and replacing the now dulled pencil nub from the pressure she'd put on it.

Straightening up from the desk, she leaned against the simple wooden chair that she hadn't bothered pulling out for fear of it's making too loud a sound and waking one of the Waldreps up. Her eyes trailed up toward the plain ceiling and she closed her eyes, trying to pinpoint whose name that could be.

A man's angry red face flashed against her closed eyelids and she shot them open, panting for breath and falling against the chair to her right, bruising her hip and arm in the process. With a pained groan, she stood up and put away the journal, pushing the drawer in noisily, not caring as much if she made noise. Her hip was throbbing in a dull pain now, and she rubbed her right arm with her free hand while shuffling back to bed.

That face was so furious. She blocked it out as best she could before settling back into bed and failing at sleep for the rest of the night.

—

Her morning routine started late today. Sharon and Joseph were again gone from the house, leaving her alone and with no note. She figured they must be out for breakfast, because they sure never cooked around the house. Lola Mae was the only one who did anything like that, so she'd learned to perfect her shrimp creole whenever the ingredients were in the house.

After a half-hearted morning wash-up, she ran a brush through her hair and stared at her reddened and tired eyes in the mirror. She must've managed _maybe _two hours of sleep all night. That angry red face came clearer to her each time she tried not to see it.

Shuffling out of her room after changing, she grabbed a tattered looking book and headed to the park down the dirt road, hoping to meet some others who were also on vacation from school.

She hadn't made too many friends because they were all sort of intimidated by her lonesome self, always tucked away in some corner reading her books. But Lola Mae did have her eyes on Cody Robbins from their English class, and he'd sure given her several stray looks.

Looking up from the dirt road, a rarely seen smile emerged on her lips as she spotted the very boy in question. He looked a sight better than he did when he indignantly nicknamed her "Rogue" a few years back. His shoulders were a little wider and his hair was messy and light brown.

Bright blues looked up when he heard someone walking toward his spot on the park bench, and a bright smile crossed his face.

"Hey, Rogue!" he called out to her, and she feigned an annoyed expression.

"Cody, yer a dumb fool, ya know that?" A moment later she was sitting next to him and punching his t-shirted arm before scooting back against the bench, all of two feet away. She knew he got a touch shy around her.

"Naw, you jes' say that to all the boys, I bet." He pulled off a somewhat convincing grin and looked forward for a minute, his gaze falling on the rusty slide. A moment later, he turned back toward her and leaned forward, starting up again, "Whatcha readin' this time, bookwor―"

Before he could finish his sentence, she'd leaned toward him and snagged a kiss from his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief and boldness.

Cody's blue eyes widened and he made a muffled noise before his body seemed to go limp. His lips hadn't responded to the kiss and his head suddenly fell back against the bench, leaving the seeker of his affections stupefied.

"Cody?" she called, reaching for his shoulders and trying to shake him out of it. His eyes were rolled back into his head and she could only see the whites of his eyes. Terrified, she touched his cheek and screamed when she felt a sudden jolt of of static shock.

Pulling away sharply, her hands flew to her head as it started pounding with images and voices she didn't recognize. It felt like her skull would explode any minute.

_Oh mah Gawd, what's happening t' me? _Unable to think clearly anymore, she forced herself off the bench, almost tripping over her own feet, but caught enough balance to run off in the general direction of her house. The car was back in the drive.

"SHARON! JOSEPH!" she cried, her head pounding so hard she couldn't keep her eyes open as she slammed against the screen door of her foster house.

Sharon Waldrep came out to see what the fuss was about when she saw Lola Mae clawing at her head like a mad person. She quickly ushered the girl through the screen door at the front of the house and slammed the heavy wooden door behind them.

"Lola Mae!" she started, trying to pull the girl's arms away from her head and neck. She was met with a hysterical rhetoric of mumbled words and noises that resembled gulped down screams.

Not a few seconds after she was taken into the house, the unfamiliar rush in her brain stopped, and she halted her hands. They slowly dropped as she looked around with wide, shocked eyes. Settling them on Sharon, she reached out, looking almost crazed.

"Who's Anna Marie!" she shouted, landing her hands on the woman's shoulders.

"What's all the dayum commotion up in heah?" came the voice of Joseph Waldrep as the noise had brought him into the kitchen to see what was going on. Seeing Lola Mae with her hands on Sharon's shoulders, he stepped between the two and grabbed onto the girl's wrists. "Now stop this immediately!"

Taking a few breaths, Lola Mae started to come down from the adrenaline rush and she saw her foster father for the first time. "…Anna Marie," she began―

"What nonsense you spoutin', gal?" he asked, shaking her slightly.

"Anna Marie! Who is she?" she asked again, looking from Joseph to Sharon. Neither answered her question for a few tense seconds.

Lola Mae's arms went limp in Joseph's grip and she swayed toward the tall man's body. He caught her before she fell to the floor.

—

**July 7th**

**Found out that Lola Mae is a lie. Anna Marie Hammond ain't, though. That little girl in those dreams―she's **_**me**_**.**

The black journal lay open on the day of July 7, pencil nub fallen to the floor next to the desk. The bed was stripped of sheets and the window was shut. All of the clothes (as if there were many to begin with) were gone from their hangers and the closet doors were shut.

It was as if Lola Mae Hammond had never lived in that room.

No, Anna Marie Hammond. The girl who killed Cody Robbins. The girl who he'd called _Rogue. _With good reason.

She was placed back in a foster home, her pack and a small bag of clothes the only material goods to her name―whatever her name was.

—

Today, eleven days after her "situation" with Cody, it was her thirteenth birthday, and no one would even know or care. Not like the Waldreps did much for her birthdays, but at least they gave her some money. She'd been tucking it away for six years. It seemed like a lot, folded up and tucked against her skin, on the inside of her underwear. That was the only safe place for it.

Anna―_Rogue_, as she started thinking of herself, looked in the bathroom mirror of her community foster home in New Orleans, the one she'd have to live in for the rest of her high school days.

The stressful… _incident_… must have made her scalp tear out in gray hairs. She had two whitish streaks along the front of her hair, looking almost natural resting against her curly auburn mane. Eyes glazing over, she started thinking about the near future.

In a few weeks, she was supposed to start high school, but in this new foster home, she was miles away from the Emerson Academy she'd had set in her head. Well, not like it was something special, but it was _something_, at least.

St. Aloysius High School (more recently accepting co-eds) wasn't her dream school, but it was near enough to the French Quarter that she could finally see the place she'd heard about. Being in Mississippi was comforting. She thought she might have been born there, but she couldn't be sure.

But something about New Orleans… it was unlike anything she'd imagined. The smell of the salt air and tasty food, the parties all over the streets… she imagined it all! Okay, maybe there weren't parties all day long, but the air definitely smelled like down home cookin'.

She'd miss the Fawn Bayou though. Looking out at night, thinking about the various life in the pool of unmoving water. She'd miss the dirt road, the park, and…

Suddenly her right hand came up to touch her lips, green eyes coming back into focus. What did she do to Cody Robbins? The minute she genuinely liked a guy, he had to go and die.

No, that wasn't right. She heard later that he was only comatose, but that was almost as bad as dying, wasn't it?

When she touched his cheek, that's when those… visions, or whatever they were, came to her mind.

Why didn't that happen when she touched Sharon? Or when Joseph grabbed her wrists?

Rogue needed to know what was happening to her, or she feared she'd go insane.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, its reflection tracking down the filthy mirror across from her.

_Will Ah evah be normal again…?_


	2. Eyes of ice

AN: A few familiar faces appear in this chapter. Let's see if you can spot 'em all! Also please R&R. Feedback is a great way for me to figure out what you like and don't like, non? ;]  
>Also, St. Aloysius itself is more of an organization of Catholics than the school. I'm actually using the real high school, Brother Martin's, just AUing it up a bit. It's one of the best in the area.<p>

Mail: m[dot]remylebeau[at]gmail[dot]com

—  
>Ch 2—Eyes of ice<br>—

Not long after Rogue turned thirteen, she started noticing beyond typical changes about her body. She'd woken up more than once with an uncomfortable sweat-soaked sheet clinging to her back, and she didn't always attribute it to the hot Louisiana weather. Her mind was uneasy and didn't let her sleep for a solid night all throughout August.

Her mind kept focusing on those images and voices she'd heard when she touched Cody. It was like a constant stream of changing channels on a radio or television set. She could have sworn some of those voices were Cody's different pitches as he matured, but she couldn't be sure.

Sitting at a small desk, she idly roamed a finger along the coarse jumper fabric that she'd gotten from St. Aloysius' orientation the day prior. It was a private school so at least it wouldn't be too bad. Hopefully not too many people in each class.

Ever since the events of last month, she'd physically kept her distance from everyone she had even a slight chance of touching. She took to wearing thin cotton gloves everywhere she went, and when asked about them, she'd say she had a skin condition. That seemed to be generally acceptable and some people would even wrinkle up their noses like she was contagious and step farther away.

The farther away, the better. Whatever caused that to happen to Cody, she was damned if she'd be touching anyone else anytime soon. Only thing she could think that would be hard is having to swim at St. Aloysius' pool. Her schedule was all made up for the new school year, and her mid-day was occupied with physical education.

Nothing seemed as far from interesting to her as physical sports and things like that. She much preferred the comfort of herself and a good book. But since that day… well, she'd lost one of her favorites and had practically kicked herself for doing that. There was no way she'd be getting another copy soon; it was long out of print, and belonged to someone prior to her. Only problem was she couldn't remember to whom.

A sliver of reddish sunlight caught her in the face and she squinted away, taking a quick peek at the table clock. 8:09. Right about time for sunset. School'd be starting in a few days and she needed to rest up.

After changing and settling into one of the twin beds in the room, she heard giggling and playful screaming down the hallway, getting closer. Her housemates were probably back already.

A petite brunette practically burst into the room and quickly turned behind her to shush her companion. She looked around the room and saw her roommate's eyes closed, so she assumed Rogue was asleep. When she leaned half of her body past the door jamb, Rogue's eyes opened a crack to watch her roomie say goodbye to her friend, or whatever.

Finally, a few minutes later, Katherine tried to quietly change into nightclothes and then get into bed. Rogue had since turned onto her other side so that her back was facing her roommate. She'd only met the girl a few weeks ago, but she was already annoyed by her bubbly personality and, worst of all, how touchy feely she was. Rogue was forced to knock her down a few pegs when Katherine insisted that Rogue call her Kitty and then tried to hug her.

Although they were the same age, Rogue would be a freshman in high school and Kitty was going into her final year of middle school, _and she's immature as all get out_, her mind added as an afterthought.

Letting out a breath, Rogue forced her eyelids to relax and she willed herself into a mild state of unconsciousness.

"_Hush little baby, don't say a word. Mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird…"_

_The soft voice was a pleasant reprieve from the heat of the day. Her face was framed in golden curls and her mouth was soft and smiling as she looked down at the little girl, whose eyes were just starting to close as her pretty mama continued to sing._

_Suddenly a concave surface hovered before the girl's face and she opened her eyes, almost instinctually knowing something was there. That familiar flash of red on black appeared in what looked to be a translucent hovering dome._

_This time, instead of innately fearing the image, she blinked her green eyes and stared at it for longer, feeling something like calmness emanating off of the image. She finally saw the red form into a circle and the black surround it, expanding at the sides. It looked like an unnatural eye, watching her, unblinking. Curious little hands reached up for it but encountered her mother's face instead, smiling and closing her eyes in contentment._

Jade eyes fluttered open then, the song of the birds outside dancing around her eardrums. This time she didn't wake up as abruptly or as scared as before, but she was still a little concerned about what that red on black thing was. The dream's contents were beginning to fade as she looked up toward the plain ceiling painted in faint orange from the rising sun.

Closing her eyes, Rogue tried to fall back asleep, and her wish was granted without argument that morning.

—

The next few days passed without much event. Kitty tried to engage her in pointless banter about the cutest new fashions and the new guy she was dating. She didn't seem to get the annoyance that Rogue was trying very hard to emanate.

"And he's just the sweetest thing, just wait until you meet him!" Kitty turned toward her roommate and grinned from ear to ear. "He said he's just _dying _to meet you! I think I might've slipped and told him how gorgeous you are, but you know, never can be too honest about looks with boys—"

It was an endless stream of chatter that was starting to grate on her ears. She didn't care none about fashion and she _certainly _didn't want to be described to some tween boy who probably only cared about getting lucky, if he even knew what that meant in the first place.

"That's nice," she responded, not even feigning interest while she sat at the lone desk with her head leaning on her hand.

Past her roommate's chatter, she could hear a few voices talking down the hall. It sounded like they were near the kitchen, by the back door. She leaned her head toward that direction and tried to block out Kitty's voice, while simultaneously concentrating on the other voices.

"—came in a few days ago. Nothin' the likes of which none of us has dealt with befo'. Real quiet-like, don't like no one gettin' close."

Rogue's eyes narrowed as she leaned her whole body closer to the doorway.

"Dat so? Peut-être la femme need motivation t'—"

Kitty stepped in front of Rogue with her hands on her hips. "Hey, you listening to me? I was just asking about your schedule this year! I can't wait to go to high school."

Rogue's look of annoyance was pretty clear, but her roommate either didn't notice, or she chose to ignore it. "Jus' the usual, ya know. English, math, science, French, gym..."

"What, no home ec or cooking or anything? Oh, I'd _love _to learn how to sew. Then I could make my own cute dresses and—"

"Uh huh. 'Scuse me." Rogue got up abruptly and tried to squeeze past Kitty via the narrow opening against the desk. She stuck her head out the door but didn't see anyone at the end of the hall, and she mentally cursed at Kitty for cutting her eavesdropping off at the absolute wrong time. She was sure those voices were talking about her. The latter one of particular interest, the accent sounding much thicker than the first. Had she heard a French word?

Sighing, she turned back to Kitty and offered a half-hearted wave. "Sorreh gal, gotta do a few thangs today."

—

Rogue hadn't been very successful in her questioning of the other residents of the foster home. None of them had seen any people chatting by the kitchen in the last hour. That was it, all 4 other kids given the once over, and nothing. She was just headed on her way back to the room when she bumped into someone rather hard, getting the wind knocked out of her.

"Oh, be careful, there!" said a mellow voice, a hand offered to Rogue, who'd fallen backward onto the floor.

Rogue's eyes locked onto the proffered hand and she shook her head, instead pushing back on her hands and getting up herself. "Sorreh 'bout that," she began, until she looked the woman in the face.

"Ah'm ahful sorreh, but have we met befoah?" Rogue hadn't seen her at the house before. The woman looked to be around her mid-thirties and she had blonde hair.

Her light blue eyes seemed to pierce right through Rogue as she smiled enigmatically and shook her head. "No, I can't say we have. I own this house." Tilting her head slightly, she offered her name: "Raven Darkhölme. You are… Anna Marie, I presume?"

Brows knitting together, she stood up straight and said in a somewhat cold tone, "Ah go by Rogue."

Raven's eyes seemed to twinkle at the girl's sudden change of voice, her smile shifting into a grin as she offered her hand in a shake. "Well then, Rogue, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Rogue eyed the hand yet again and this time, shook it firmly and quickly before letting it drop. She didn't want to offend this woman, who was technically her new foster mother.

"The pleasure's all mine, Ah assure you," she said with sincerity, but more out of a curiosity than genuine politeness. Something about this woman put her on edge, but she couldn't quite pinpoint it. She'd have to keep her eye on the blonde woman, watching her moves very carefully.

"I hope you like your accommodations, and the school we've set you up with? Irene and I are always looking to help foster children adjust to their lives as best as we can," the woman said, her tone mild and her expression neutral.

"Oh… yeah, can' say Ah mind them, much. But why St. Aloysius? Ah thought it was a boys' school."

Nodding, Raven answered Rogue's questioning gaze. "It was for a long time. However, more recently, the school administration decided to allow girls a fair chance at their rather exceptional academics."

Rogue's eyes narrowed a bit and her arms crossed, haughtiness entering her tone: "Oh so it's fa'nlly good 'nough fo' us gals now, is it?" Her accent always did seem to thicken when she was roused.

The woman started laughing at the girl's change of attitude, appreciating the spark she saw in her green eyes. "Yes, and I do believe they'll find you a handful. Apparently your 'name' is well-earned, Rogue. It was lovely talking with you. Let's be sure to make this a frequent occurrence."

Offering Rogue another mysterious smile, she turned to head back the way she was originally going, giving a wave as she went. Rogue's eyes followed her as she tried to figure the woman out.

_What a strange person. But Ah think Ah like her. _Her original mission abandoned, she headed back to the room she shared with Kitty in the hopes of jotting down everything she'd learned today. Keeping a new journal seemed to keep the voices in her head at bay.

—

Her morning had started out normal enough. A quick few bites of apple and a glass of orange juice started her on a good energy kick. Dressed in her crisp new uniform, Rogue's hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her hands encased in an elbow-length pair of white cotton gloves, she shifted the backpack and started walking to school. Since it was less than a mile, the walk was a welcome change from the noise of her rather full foster home.

English and math had gone pretty smoothly, but when it came time to start gym class, she was suddenly on edge. The new girls' locker room the school had built was pretty small, so the spaces between each row of lockers seemed even more cramped for Rogue, who tried to avoid contact with anyone.

She couldn't rightly wear her cotton gloves to the pool, but after having explained her "skin condition" to the instructor this morning, he'd provided her with a short pair of yellow vinyl gloves. They actually matched the yellow swimsuit uncannily well.

_So far, so good_, she thought, as she swam a few laps around the pool. The small group of girls from her class had been friendly enough, but they eyed her gloves strangely and some of them got together and started whispering about them in the locker room. Rogue did her best to ignore them, but when one of the nastier girls grew a smirk on her stuck-up face, Rogue knew she was headed for trouble.

The taller girl tried to make it look like an accident, but she'd purposely shoved Rogue into a locker door, brushing her bare arm to Rogue's in the process. The girl never knew what hit her as she went down in an instant.

Rogue's head immediately began to fill with strange images and more voices. With a grimace and a slam of her locker door, she hauled her bag out toward the hallway, partially dressed in her uniform. She leaned against an alcove of lockers next to a water fountain a ways down the hall, sliding down and gripping onto her head.

"Hey dere, y'a'right?" The owner of the voice started coming toward her, but before he got near enough, Rogue screamed out in frustration and shoved past him, just barely grazing his gloved hand as he stumbled back in shock.

Twenty minutes later, Rogue was completely dressed but a bit disheveled as she made her way into her French class, trying to control her body's trembling.

"Everyone, take any available seat. Welcome to French IV." The slightly balding man introduced himself and discussed the goals of the course, but Rogue couldn't pay attention.

She'd studied several years of French in grade school and had been placed in senior level French this year, but she almost regretted doing so well in prior classes, as the workload proved to be pretty intensive even on the first day. Her head was spinning and she couldn't keep her mind on the work in front of her.

Across the classroom, a pair of red on black eyes were focused on the side of Rogue's messy head. Stray hairs were pulled out of her still-wet ponytail and her hands were visibly trembling as she did her exercises. He made a mental note to catch her name and find out her story.

—

Finally the school day was over and she was able to walk home, albeit slowly. Soon as she dropped off her bag and changed into normal clothes and her usual cotton gloves, she headed for the sitting room. The fireplace was crackling low despite the heat of the day, but Rogue found it inviting as she sat on the couch in front of it.

Raven Darkhölme reentered the room to find Rogue near passing out from her day's efforts. Eyebrows rising inquisitively, she sat next to the girl and offered her the cup of hot cocoa in her hands.

Rogue sat up in shock, numbly accepting the cup without a word. Her head was still pounding.

"What's the matter, Rogue?" Raven started, turning toward her on the couch.

After taking a sip, Rogue's hands started to finally warm up and she looked into Raven's light eyes. "Ah had a pretty rough day. Ah don't wanna be burdenin' you with mah problems—" she tried, but Raven held her hand up.

"Don't you worry about that, just tell me what happened."

Rogue took another few sips of the delicious drink before putting it on the coffee table at her knees. Leaning against them with her elbows, she spoke in a soft voice, "Ah don't think Ah'll be fittin' in well with them other girls at school."

A look of concern flashed on Raven's face as she leaned forward, lightly touching Rogue's clothed shoulder. "And why is that, child?"

Her voice was so kind, so inviting, she almost wanted to tell her everything. The voice in her head was finally starting to die down in Raven's presence. Turning her head toward the woman, Rogue continued, "Y'know how mean they c'n git when they don't understand others."

"All too well, I'm afraid," Raven replied, gently stroking Rogue's shoulder. The girl leaned back against the couch and pulled her knees up, finding a comfortable position.

"But you shouldn't let them get into your head, Rogue. Prove to them what you already know: you're better."

Rogue's tired green eyes met Raven's blue ones, her head slowly nodding. "Ah s'pose…"

"That a girl. Don't you worry too much. Let yourself relax for today and face tomorrow with a brighter outlook." Smiling comfortingly, she held out her arms for Rogue, who leaned in a bit closer, leaning her auburn head into Raven's side. She was so warm.

As Raven felt Rogue's breathing slow into longer inhales, she let her hand run just centimeter's over the girl's exposed arm, feeling an unusual warmth and tingling of energy just beneath the surface.

Her icy blue eyes glinted in realization, lips forming a satisfied smile as she held the girl close.


	3. Mission im possible

Mail: m[dot]remylebeau[at]gmail[dot]com

—  
>Ch 3—Mission (im)possible<br>—

The next few weeks of school passed in a blur for Rogue. She hadn't had any more trouble from that group of girls since the incident in the locker room. They didn't know what to attribute their "leader's" fainting to, but they sure did seem to pin it on Rogue.

Good enough reason for them to keep away from her, just as she liked it.

French had thankfully become more appealing over the weeks as her mind took the time to refresh itself on the melodic language. She found herself walking to her foster home reciting that day's conversations with fair ease.

On this particular late September day, around 3:20 after school, she got an eerie feeling while heading out of St. Aloysius and down her usual path. The café she'd passed by smelled as wonderful as always, and though she felt her stomach grumbling, she knew she'd get a chance to cook something soon as she got home.

From a safe distance, red eyes gazed at the walking girl, their owner's pace following in perfect step with her. She'd put her hair up in a ponytail again today, but a few white streaks of shoulder-length hair were bouncing around her face as she walked.

_Petite, où allez-vous maintenant? _He wondered, continuing to follow her as she came to a crosswalk, ducking behind a building so as not to be seen. The clanking of small metal bits in a pocket was silenced as he leaned against the cool brick, the pleasant smells from the other side setting his taste buds alight.

"De best in de neighb'hood," came the casual side comment, before continuing to trace her as she crossed the street.

This couldn't really be considered stalking. Not really.

…well, maybe a little. But he had good reason to wonder about her. From the moment she moved into the neighborhood, he'd kept his eye on her because he didn't necessarily trust the air of that foster home. Something didn't seem right about the place, and he'd heard that she was an unusual girl, herself.

He watched as she finally reached the house and disappeared inside, auburn locks swinging behind her before the screen door snapped shut.

"Don' you worr' none petite, ol' monsieur LeBeau got'ch' back."

—

The smells in the kitchen were pure bliss as Rogue finally found time to perfect her favorite dish.

"Mmm, what is that!"

Rogue looked up and saw Kitty's pleasantly surprised face, nose leading the rest of her body toward the kitchen. The amateur chef couldn't help but laugh a little at her roommate.

"Ya like? It's mah favorite dish, shrimp creole. Got plen'y o' practice at mah prior home," she explained, as the oil sizzled in the pan. Her head tilted toward the pitcher next to her.

"Help yahself ta some lemonade while ya wait."

"Thanks, I'm sooo wiped! School was so intense today," Kitty started, pouring herself a liberal glass. She admired the floating lemon rind with a finger before looking up at Rogue.

"How've your classes been going? I hear you're getting pretty good at French, if your dreams have anything to say." Hazel eyes twinkled as she held back a laugh.

Rogue's cheeks started getting a little hot, and she couldn't blame it on the frying pan.

"Ah talk in mah sleep? Didn' re'lize. Sorreh if it kept y'awake, Kitty."

Her roommate shook her head. "Not at all! I just think it's pretty funny hearing you mumbling some words. It's such a pretty language." There was an evident note of longing in her voice.

"Then why don't you consider takin' French when it's yoah turn? The instructor was a touch difficult ta get used t' at first, but he's real nice when ya get ta know him."

"Maybe I will!" Anything else Kitty might have said was lost in the mouthful of lemonade she was enjoying.

Even though she was a bit annoying at first, Rogue eventually got used to the chatty girl. She had some good points, and when Rogue wasn't feeling so great some days, Kitty seemed to be a nice pick-me-up with her cheery attitude. She'd even gotten used to the late night good-byes with her… _friend_, whom she still hadn't been introduced to. Not like she minded that much. She was content without adding any boy drama into the mix.

Truth be told, she wouldn't mind having a few more friends, but since she was still new at the school, she wasn't too concerned about that just yet. Worst case, Kitty would be there next year, so at least they'd know one another. No doubt Kitty would recruit some friends along the way.

The sizzling of the creole brought her back to the present and she prodded the shrimp to see if it was done. Satisfied, she turned off the flame and set out a big serving dish for the bulk of the food. She turned to Kitty with an inquisitive look, to which her roommate nodded fervently, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Aw'right, it's finished and ready ta be dug in!"

"Oh Rogue, that looks delish! I hope it tastes as good as it smells!" Kitty's enthusiasm was increasing, if that was at all possible. Rogue shook her head and smiled at her, offering her a plate and taking her own to the small kitchen table, glass of lemonade in her other hand.

The two girls sat together and took their first bites, Kitty's contented sigh louder than she had intended. She popped her head up and blushed as Rogue just laughed.

"Ah'm glad ya like it!"

"Mhm! Sho guud!" Kitty tried, her mouth full.

Meanwhile, sitting up a tree just outside the back door, another approving nose was homing in on the meal.

_Dat femme know how t' cook, _he thought appreciatively, a smile crawling across his lips. An idle foot swung back and forth as he leaned back against the hefty branch, arms crossing over his uniformed chest.

He'd need to wait until that blonde woman got home, and then he'd make his move.

—

Bellies full and smiles befitting the Cheshire cat planted on their faces, Rogue and Kitty sat back on the couch and took advantage of the relative quiet in the house. Both were watching some obscure soap on the television before they headed off to their respective homework assignments, or in Kitty's case, to slacking on said assignments.

Rogue barely suppressed a yawn caused by impending food coma. She glanced at her roommate, who was already dozing off against the couch arm. Thinking that looked like a perfect idea, Rogue got up and headed to their room to change out of the stiff uniform.

Just as she pulled her half-sleeve shirt over her head, that eerie feeling returned to her, and she turned around to look at the window. Walking over to look out into the courtyard, she didn't see anything or anyone rustling around. The tree was free of any critters and the sparse, smaller greenery around the area was undisturbed. She hadn't thought to look upward, but if she had, she'd have seen the tip of a black boot supporting itself on the top of the window frame.

Right when she was finished dressing, the back door opened and shut, a pair of heels clicking into the house. Her odd feeling temporarily set aside, Rogue went out to greet her foster mother.

She offered the blonde woman a smile before giving her a hug, which was returned with a small smile on Raven's own lips.

"Why hello there, Rogue. Is that your famous cooking I smell?"

"Shoah is. Ah made some shrimp creole foah ev'ryone t' enjoy."

Raven toed her shoes off and set them near the door, and then turned around the corner to see the serving dish in the kitchen. She really was impressed with how well Rogue seemed to be fitting into this house since that night she'd told the blonde woman her worries.

"Rogue dear, that looks wonderful. Remind me to set aside some for lunch tomorrow. I have another busy day."

Although Raven often alluded to these full days, she never went into detail, and Rogue never saw fit to ask about them. If the older woman wanted to fill her in, she would in time. Rogue had developed a strong respect for her in the short time she'd been at the house. She seemed to understand the trouble at school and encouraged Rogue to always improve herself, and never to give in to others' chiding.

"Ah'll make one up foah ya mahself." Rogue's smile was slight but genuine.

"Ah hope ya had a good day?"

"Busy, as always, but fairly productive. Irene should finally be back at the house this weekend, and you'll have your chance to meet her as well. She's heard much about you."

"Ah only hope she likes me like ya seem ta—"

"Of course she will, dear! You are a brave, conscientious, and studious girl. What isn't there to like?" Raven knew just the right words to say to improve Rogue's moods, as if she'd been studying the girl thoroughly.

"Ah s'pose so," Rogue conceded, smiling slightly. "Speaking of studious, Ah am doin' bettah in French. Monsieur Auvite said Ah'm improvin' in grammar and conjugation quite nicely."

The proud ring to her voice was not lost on Raven, who smiled and patted her foster daughter's shoulder affectionately.

"Just like I knew you would, Rogue. You're the least one I ever have to worry about," she said with a pointed look toward the napping Kitty on the couch.

Rogue's gaze followed Raven's and she crinkled her brows. "Kitty's just bein' a lil gal, y'know how she is. Ah wouldn' be surprised if she grows out of it come next year."

Raven's icy eyes narrowed for a moment before they returned to Rogue's face, instantly shifting to a more welcoming look. "Perhaps. I'm afraid I have to get to work in my office, Rogue. I'm sorry to cut our conversation so short. Do be a good girl and finish up your homework before heading to bed."

Rogue nodded and bid her foster mother a good night before cleaning up the kitchen and setting aside a container of food for Raven's lunch tomorrow.

Next it was time to tackle her homework.

—

His chance was open when Raven had taken a break from her work. She was busy with a shower from the sounds of it, but she'd left the window open a crack.

'_Nough fo' a t'ief t' get in_. The self-satisfied smirk on his face quickly turned serious as he jimmied the window open the rest of the way while avoiding snapping the window locks at the sides. Gloved hands started carefully rummaging through the papers she was working on.

He'd watched her for at least an hour to make sure he got to the right piles of papers. She had spent a good portion of that time typing at the computer, so before he set to work on the papers, he'd placed a small drive into her computer to copy her most recently modified files. This job would be a breeze.

Finding papers matching what he'd been briefed on, he snagged a few snapshots with a small camera and quickly slipped it back into his coat pocket. Looking up at the computer, he noted the complete copy of her files and tucked the drive away as well.

As quiet as a mouse, he slid back out the window as he heard a door open down the hallway. He'd left it open just a crack, the same as he found it.

_Jes' in time_.

Before darting off toward his final destination, he made a small detour toward another window, hopping into the tree before he could be spotted. Leaning his head down enough to see into the window, he admired the side profile of the belle he'd had his eyes on. Hopefully she wouldn't get too much closer to the home's "foster mother," but he had a feeling that wasn't to be the case.

If it became a danger for her to be in that house, he had his instructions.

—

"C'est bon!" The man offered his son a pat on the back when he was presented with the copies and photos.

"Papa, shouldn' we t'ink about checkin' her out fu'da befo' we jus' let her stay an' get close to de femme blonde?"

"Non mon fils, no need fo' dat. From what we been hearin', she c'n take care o' herself, hein?"

Jean-Luc LeBeau had a point. There _was _that unexplained incident at the school where he'd caught her in an almost hysterical state, and he'd later found out that a girl was knocked unconscious for a week not 30 yards away from Rogue's spot.

"Remy, go an' tell Henri dat Papa wan' t' see 'im."

"Ouais papa," he replied, obliging the man and heading off after his brother.

The small apartment atop the bar was still a bit unfamiliar, but it proved useful to be so close to the school, so he'd be more successful with his occasional mission. If they were to succeed this time, they needed all of the advantages they could get.

Things were just starting to pick up downstairs as the clock neared 10:30pm. Thursday nights were just as busy as Fridays, most likely because the hung over folk could look forward to a shorter work day afterward.

_N'awlins has it own charm dat way, abidin' to de will of de people, _he mused. While he missed the old house on the bayou, this temporary home had its own appeals. The bar girls downstairs certainly had noticed him in the past few weeks, and since he was one of the oldest in his class, he'd be turning 18 soon enough. _Den de party begin_, though his height lent another few years to his appearance, so it wouldn't be such a big change.

"Henri!" he called absently, heading toward the sitting room while still thinking about the charms and plentiful assets of the pretty ladies downstairs.

"Quoi?"

"Papa need t' see ya, alles."

His older brother waved his thanks for the message and headed back to talk with their father about the recent successful acquisition of important documents.

The more of these missions he went on, the more he improved his game. Soon enough the Guild would formally make him a member and he'd be sitting pretty by his father and brother's sides.

_None too shabby, ol' monsieur LeBeau._

Settling down on his usual chair, Remy looked out the open window onto the lit up street and took advantage of the slight breeze carrying the smells of the party downstairs. He pulled out a cigarette from his inside pocket and held it to his lips, the tips of his fingers lighting up the end.

The next job was a matter of delicacy, but he'd be sure to handle it with his usual grace where the object of his frequent gazes was concerned.

—

Her homework had been easy enough to work through. She'd tried to wake Kitty, though she would probably have better luck trying to rouse a bear out of hibernation. The brunette didn't seem to think much of homework, and who was Rogue to try to baby her? She'd learn on her own one way or the other.

Sitting back in her desk chair, she looked down at the journal she'd taken out after her homework was done. The entry's ink was still gleaming in the light of her desk lamp.

**September 21st**

**Did much better in French today. Didn't have any more issues from those girls in gym; they seem to be avoidin' me like the plague. Fine by me.**

**Raven seemed a little distracted today. We didn't get to have our cocoa on the couch tonight, but that's okay, maybe tomorrow night, or this weekend.**

**The dreams have finally died down a bit. Nothin' like a full night's sleep to improve your grades, that's for sure, but there's no tellin' when they'll be back.**

**Hopefully my mind can handle it all right the next time. The feeling of losing my sanity sure ain't pleasant.**

She had stopped signing each entry since the day she'd found out her real name. Instead, her final sentence was punctuated with a tiny "R" whose tail curved out elegantly to a point.

As soon as she put the journal back into her bag, she stretched languidly, eyes falling half shut when she realized how truly tired she was. Since her nights were getting easier to sleep through, she hadn't been so concerned about the dreams again.

But what was it about them that actually made her miss them lately? The last full one seemed calm, peaceful. She still felt curious about that eye-looking object, but right now, she pushed those curious thoughts out of her head.

Ambling over to her bed, she got comfy beneath the sheets and gave the ceiling a final gaze before closing her eyes. The light sheet's coolness enveloped her body before she fell asleep, a sudden energy softly crackling off of her skin.

A/N: Some French translations for you all, courtesy of my grandad. Most of the French the LeBeaus use will be slang and familiar.  
><em>Petite, oùallez-vous maintenant <em>= "Little one, where are you headed now"  
>mon fils = "my son," masculine form of my<br>c'est bon = "it's good"  
>ouais = "yes," slang<br>alles = "go," familiar, slang  
>quoi = "what," sort of slang<br>femme = "woman"


	4. La teuf

A/N: Thank you for the reviews. Please keep 'em coming so I know what to keep on doing.  
>Remy's temporary apt. is atop Tujague's, seen in <em>X-Men: Legacy<em>_ #220_.

**Anon**: Many thanks for the review. I'm glad you like it so far. Since speech is so dynamic, I want it to read as realistically as possible. Also, thanks for the note on "alles." My grandad speaks Acadian French, so he was giving me slang and dialectically pertinent translations. I decided to omit the "t" from the front vowel-proceeding words, though. Seems like more of a hassle to try to read than for the enjoyment of reading. I hope that helps to alleviate the bother? I was bugged by it too since I've personally taken proper French in school.

**Jess**: Glad you like! Thank you for taking the time to review. I hope you continue to read to find out what happens.

Mail: m[dot]remylebeau[at]gmail[dot]com

—  
>Ch 4—La teuf<br>—

The end of October came pretty quickly for Rogue. Since the school was private and religious, they didn't see fit to celebrate "the Devil's holiday," and so, Halloween came by nearly unnoticed. However, not to deprive its social students of clean fun (after all, they were going to celebrate in their own particular ways if the school didn't intervene), St. Aloysius held a chaperoned dance coincidentally falling on Halloween Eve. The announcement was made over the PA system during the first week of October.

_Great, another reason fo' me not ta talk t' anyone_, Rogue had thought dejectedly when she'd heard the announcement.

Now, three weeks later, she found herself kind of looking forward to the event. Kitty had gone on and on about it almost every night. Either Rogue would end up hating it, or slightly curious about it. Eventually, the latter had occurred.

Even though Kitty didn't attend the school yet, her "friend" was a sophomore there and had asked her to go with him. It was a few nights before the dance and the two girls were lounging around the sitting room, the brunette speaking a mile a minute about it.

"And I still haven't found a dress, but I don't even know what color or style would look good on me! I mean, it's a pretty big deal, you know, going with a sophomore and trying to impress the other guys and oh my gosh, what will I do for shoes!"

"Oh no!" Rogue cried, imitating Kitty's distraught expression, jade eyes wide and hand flying up to her mouth. "Whatevah shall Ah do about mah own dress? Ah haven't the slightest clue about mah hair! Ah think the world is endin'!"

Kitty's eyebrows lowered and she said in a low, grave voice, "This is a serious crisis Rogue."

Rogue grinned at her roomie. "It ain't no crisis sugah, just anothah case of 'oh em gee, what'll ev'ryone think of me?'"

"Rogue! C'mon, don't you care at all what all those cute, hunky, absolutely fabulous guys will think of you?" The desperation in Kitty's voice was reaching its limits.

"Besides! I thought you had actually decided to go, so you'll have to figure out an outfit, too!"

"Ah said Ah'd consider it, not that Ah'm goin' fo' sho."

Kitty sighed dramatically and sunk herself deeper into the overstuffed chair. Rogue gave her another amused look before standing up.

"Well, Ah'm fixin' to head out fo' a walk to clear mah head."

"See ya," Kitty tossed out, still broody.

Rogue shook her head and went to their shared room to grab a pair of longer cotton gloves, a habit by now, for whenever she went out into the public eye.

The light breeze carried a hint of salt toward her as she walked. Temperatures had gone down a bit, but nothing that would freeze anyone to death. The beauty of living by the ocean was its fairly pleasant temperature changes.

Not long after she came to live with Raven, Kitty, and the others, she was walking around the neighborhood and found a park near the house. It may not have been the most exciting place in the world, but she'd been pleased with its simplicity all the same. No one seemed to bother her here, and even the kids that did come around were sparse.

Her walk took her around the whole park and back to the front entrance, where she found a bench and sat to look up at the sky. She was starting to actually think about what she wanted to wear to that stupid dance.

_Somethin' strappy? Nah, Ah'd prob'ly show too much skin, an' Ah don't want an accident, that's fo' sho. _Mentally running through the styles she'd heard Kitty talk about, she smiled to herself and lowered her head.

_That's it! _As soon as she decided on something, her eyes came into focus and she thought she saw someone dart off across the park. _Was Ah bein' watched?_ She wondered, a chill sweeping through her body.

Not wanting to risk being caught alone, she quickly stood and turned around—right into a black-shirted chest.

She let out an "oof!" when her face bumped into the person who stood a little too closely behind her. With a hesitating foot, she stepped backward and started to apologize.

"Ah'm terribly sorreh, Ah didn' see ya there…" before looking up into the person's face.

A flash of red on black. Her own jade eyes widened just a bit as she stared into those eyes, fascination overcoming her as her mouth hung on her last sentence. Her cheeks flushed a becoming rose color and she finally closed her mouth.

The smiling face of the boy was quite handsome, yet rugged in some ways. He was at least a head taller than her, and he had the most amused expression on his face.

"Non chère, don' blame y'self. I should'a been watchin' where I was goin'."

Rogue stepped back a bit more and offered him a small, bashful smile.

"Ah'll watch where Ah'm turnin' next time, then."

He held out a hand as he continued to gaze at her, his eyes unwavering and more than a little intense. The smooth lyric baritone of his voice certainly appealed to Rogue's ears as he introduced himself:

"Remy LeBeau. And you are?"

She lifted her own hand, intending to shake his quickly. "Ah jus' go by Rogue."

Instead, he lifted it to his lips and brushed the softest kiss on the back of her gloved hand. "Enchanté, Rogue."

His gentle manner caught her off-guard for a minute, her eyes taken by his own. After she'd held her breath for too long, she pulled her hand back and smiled weakly.

"It's nice ta meet ya, Mistah LeBeau."

"S'il vous plaît, please call me Remy. Mon père is Monsieur LeBeau."

She laughed nervously and took another step back, leaning against the bench's armrest for support.

"Remy, then. Ah was just headed home when Ah bumped into ya. Ah s'pose Ah'll be headed back now."

Rogue started to take a few steps back toward the foster home when Remy LeBeau called out to her.

"Rogue, un moment. You go to de St. Aloysius school, n'est-ce pas?"

She nodded her head and said, "Yes, Ah do. How d'you know that?" Her head tilted in question.

"Remy seen you dere last mont', when you were on de floor." His eyebrow lifted to point out the moment.

"Oh, that was—" _just one of the worst days of mah year, that's all_, she thought, looking down for a minute. When she lifted her head, she finished her thought.

"Ah was just tired is all, nothin' ta worry about."

Letting it go for now, Remy nodded but spoke again, changing the subject.

"Is de petite goin' to de dance dis weekend?" His eyes seemed to twinkle at the mention of it.

"Ah uh… well yes, Ah s'pose so," she said a bit uncertainly. Where was he going with this?

Pleased at her reply, he asked what was on his mind, fully expecting her to either stutter or not respond at all. She didn't seem the assertive type in such situations.

"Den Remy'd love t' have de first dance, if dat be less dan presumptuous."

Rogue's heartbeat increased just a tiny bit at his statement. It wasn't even a question, just a matter-of-fact statement of his intention to see her again at the dance. A bit arrogant, really, seeing as she just met him. But why did she find herself nervous and slightly breathless?

"Well Ah'm not so sho Ah'll be dancin', just goin' t' accompany a friend of mahn, so Ah caint say one way or the othah…" The thickening Mississippi accent gave away her nervousness.

"Well no problem, den I'll be seein' you dere, eider way, oui?"

A light nod and she felt him cut off the conversation. "'Twas nice t' meet you, Rogue. Bon journée."

She watched him turn as he walked away from the park, turning onto Governor Nicholls St. and around the corner. Her breathing returned to normal and she touched the back of the hand he kissed, idly stroking the spot and gazing out in the direction he'd walked.

At her age, she was supposed to like boys and even pursue them, if Kitty's advice was any good. She hadn't really listened much to it, until perhaps today. Remy LeBeau intrigued her like no other boy had, but she reminded herself not to lose her head.

_It's not like Ah can touch him eithah way_. The thought sobered her and she slowly started walking back home. She might have to drag Kitty dress shopping just to get her mind off of things.

—

Rogue's eyes followed the line of her dress in the waist-length mirror, tilting her head and looking toward her side as she made sure it was smooth and lint-free. The deep purple color complemented her eyes so that they looked that much more intense that evening. Her auburn hair fell freely, white streaks framing her face. The faintest trace of make-up graced her features.

She'd opted for an elegant look, with an empire waist, knee-length skirt, and a sweetheart front. The modern black pelisse around her shoulders had long sleeves accompanied with short black gloves, and ensured that no one would touch her skin, as did the flesh-toned tights she wore. Her simple kitten heel black shoes completed the outfit.

Rogue took a last look in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom, looking around for Kitty. The brunette was slipping on her second strappy heel and looked up at Rogue. Her hazel eyes went wide and she practically squealed:

"Rogue! You look so pretty!"

Kitty's outfit was fairly simple too. A lime green halter top dress which fell to her knees and a pearl bracelet adorned her right wrist. Her strappy heels matched the dress color perfectly. Short brunette curls fell out of the updo and she blew at them in annoyance.

"Thank ya, so do you, Kitty. Is your friend comin' ta pick us up, or are we walkin'?"

"_Walking? _In these shoes? No way! He took his brother's car since he's out of town." Kitty's smile was mischievous.

"Oh, well that's al'raht, Ah guess…"

"It's fine!"

A moment later they heard a honk outside the house, to which Kitty grinned and called out the window, "We're comiiiing!"

The two girls headed for the front door and it slammed shut behind them. Kitty tried to run out to the car but tripped on a rock, managing to catch herself before she fell. Looking over her shoulder at Rogue, she shot her an embarrassed look before taking it slower this time.

Sitting in the car was the boy Kitty had been dating these past few months.

_Well, he's ahfully rude to jus' sit there an' not come 'n open the doors fo' us. _Seems he wasn't raised properly, unlike the normal southern boys. _Must'a been raised in a dern barn!_

After the girls had gotten in, the short car ride saw enormous amounts of chatter from Kitty before they reached the school, whose entrance was being flooded with high school students all coming out of cars or off the sidewalk.

As Rogue got out of the car and started walking toward the school, she could hear the soft music coming from within. She lost Kitty in the crowd of people walking into the school and figured she'd find her later. Worst case, she could just walk home. It wasn't that far, after all.

The gymnasium had been converted into a dance floor, complete with strings of pink, white, and green lights. There weren't any Halloween-specific decorations, but there was punch and an apple bobbing tub not far from it. The attendees were dressed fairly nicely and no one seemed to be in costume.

_Seems an ahful shame not ta celebrate the holiday… _Rogue thought, but quickly shook the thought off when she noticed how packed the dance floor was already. There were plenty of students sitting off on the sidelines looking awkward, but "Dirt Road Anthem" was playing and Rogue smiled at the familiar tune.

"Bonsoir m'mselle," came the voice from beside her.

Rogue turned, a little surprised, at the voice. She watched Remy LeBeau take off his black hat and give her a slight bow. His button-down purple shirt, black vest, and black slacks matched her dress pretty well. It was almost as if they'd coordinated outfits.

"Oh hah," she greeted a bit breathlessly, "…Remy. Ah didn' see you there."

"Seem t' be a pattern, us bumpin' int' each uddah, non?" His face showed off his amusement.

"Seems so," she agreed.

Right then his arm reached toward the punch bowl around her and he scooped up two paper cups, offering her one with an inquisitive look.

"Oh, thanks, Ah'm a bit thirsty."

"De rien, chère."

Whenever he used that word in reference to her she felt herself start to get a little hot. _Dangit, why'd Ah need to wear this thick thang _in reference to her pelisse.

"Still t'inkin' you won' dance tonight?"

His question made her freeze as she anticipated his reply to her "Ah'm not sure."

Remy finished the contents of his cup and dropped it into the nearby trashcan, turning back to Rogue with a slight flourish. _Sho does lahk t' show off, _she mused, not entirely unappreciative.

The hat had found its way back to its owner's russet head, resting slightly askew as he held out his hand to her.

"C'mon petite, one dance. What could it hurt?"

Sighing, she gave in, put down the cup, and let him pull her onto the dance floor. Right then Shania Twain's "That Don't Impress Me Much" started to play, apparently the fitting song for Remy LeBeau's charms. No doubt he had the girls swooning off their feet, but Rogue wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

Besides the fact that she was only 13. With that dress on, someone might have thought her a little older, but it was still innocent and sweet.

Throughout the song, Remy kept a decent dancing space between them, although he didn't miss the opportunity to show off some of his moves. Rogue's brows raised as she put off an unimpressed air, playing along with the song. They both had fun with the lyrics as they made their way toward the center of the floor.

After way too short a time, the song ended. When she thought he'd let her leave the floor, "Country Girl" by Luke Bryan came on. A smile found her lips and she locked gazes with Remy, whose red-on-black eyes seemed to glitter knowingly at her.

"Appropriate song, non?"

"Ah'd say so! Care ta dance one more round?" She found that she was enjoying herself despite her initial misgivings a few weeks ago.

Remy's light steps matched Rogue's bouncy and swaying moves. Both found themselves laughing and having a good time. When the song was over, Rogue practically pouted and Remy held back a laugh at her exaggerated displeasure.

Heading over to the sidelines, Remy led Rogue by the hand and offered it another kiss.

"Well chère, dat was some good dancin'. Glad y' took me up on it. I'll leave y' to y' own devices now."

Nodding, Rogue smiled at the Cajun and thanked him for the two dances, watching as he sauntered off toward a small group of, presumably, his friends.

She sat down in one of the free chairs surrounding the dance floor, sighing as a few more familiar songs came on. Some classic Dixieland songs played and the floor started thinning out. _Shame the old music is dyin'_, she thought as she watched the people around her.

After an hour at the dance, she was missing Remy's dancing and smiling face. She hadn't gotten back on the floor since he'd led her to the sidelines, nor had she seen any sign of Kitty or her date. The night was starting to drag on.

Instead of sitting in one spot feeling a bit dejected, she headed back toward the punch bowl and scooped up another cup, nursing it for a while as she leaned against a nearby gymnasium wall.

When she'd almost finished her punch, Kitty came running up to her with tears tracking down her cheeks.

"Mah goodness, what happened ta ya?" Rogue's concerned eyes took in Kitty's somewhat disheveled features and put her on alert, dark thoughts entering her mind of the throats she'd strangle if anyone had messed with her roommate.

"Oh Rogue, I wanna go home!" Kitty's voice broke on the last word.

"Why? What happened?" She tried again, dropping the cup into the trash and taking hold of Kitty's hands while attempting to get her roommate to look her in the eye.

Sniffling and slumping her bare shoulders, Kitty finally answered her question in a low voice.

"Jimmy tried… he tried to…"

Rogue's eyes went wide and she practically shrieked:

"He tried ta _what_?"

"He… he didn't want to let go of my hand and he kept trying to grab my waist, but I said 'no' and he just got mad and pulled me toward the exit, but I pretended to trip on my shoes and I got away from him—"

Kitty's voice broke down and she grabbed onto Rogue's pelisse, letting the tears flow freely.

Rogue initially stiffened at the pull, but seeing that Kitty was nowhere near naked skin, she brought her hands up to Kitty's back and rubbed comfortingly.

"Shh, it's al'raht Kitty, let's just go home."

Rogue started to walk them toward the exit while holding onto Kitty's shoulders when she heard her name called.

"Rogue! What de matt'r wit' y' friend?"

Remy's eyes were concerned, darting between Rogue and Kitty.

"She just sprained her ankle is all. Ah'm gonna take her home."

His brows knit together as he nodded, adjusting his hat as he seemed to dwell on something. Then he asked:

"Well how far y' live?"

"Oh, not far. Jus' about five blocks away."

"Y' got a ride dere?" He asked, figuring they probably didn't, since they were leaving fairly early into the dance.

"Ah don' think so, not anymore." Rogue's eyes looked away from Remy's face and down upon Kitty's head. "But Ah'm sure we'll manage. We'll take it slow."

"Non, don' worry, head over to de school entrance an' Remy'll meet you dere," came his solid reply before he darted off back to his group. A few moments later he was headed out the gymnasium doors.

Rogue sighed and walked Kitty out the doors and stopped, pulling Kitty's arms from around her and asking if she was all right.

Shaking her head, Kitty wiped her tears on her arm and wrapped herself up in both arms.

Rogue's instincts were to head back into the dance and give that doggone boy a piece of her mind, but she had to watch out for Kitty.

"Well c'mon, let's go meet mah friend at the front door, then." Kitty nodded meekly and walked beside Rogue to the school entrance, where they were met by a small two-door Buick, its body an older model.

Remy came over to them and joined Kitty's free side, helping her over to the car and inside, holding onto her head so she wouldn't bump it. He held the door open for Rogue with a polite smile.

"Thanks Remy. Ya know ya didn' have ta do this—"

"S'all righ' petite, don' trouble y'self none. Now let me take you home."

He hadn't asked if they lived together because he already knew from his secret visits, but when he stopped by the house Rogue had indicated, he made a show of asking just to cover up his tracks.

"An' where you live?"

She hadn't thought much about the question when she realized that not too many people would know they were foster kids there. "Here too. We're roommates."

"Bon, den le's get y' roommate inside an' you as well."

After making sure Kitty was inside and in the bathroom to take care of herself, Rogue walked back outside to get some fresh night air. It was a little past 9pm and she was hoping to have a nice view of the stars, just to calm her mind from its rage.

"She doin' a'righ'?" Came Remy's voice, surprising her and making her jump a little.

"Oh! Yeah, she's gonna be al'raht Ah think. She just needs ta rest it off."

Remy nodded, accepting her explanation. He'd seen Kitty's date pulling at her waist earlier and had intended to intervene before the clever little girl faked a fumble and darted away.

"Sorr' 'bout de fille's situation. Hopefully she recover quick an' have a good rest."

Smiling at Remy, Rogue shared her agreement and held onto her waist as she looked up into the sky. She didn't want to keep Remy from the rest of the dance so she turned to him and put on a more cheerful expression.

"Well Ah don't want ta keep ya from the dance. We'll be al'raht now, Remy, thank ya."

His eyes watched her intently before he came over to her, towering over her slighter frame.

In his smoothest voice, he said, "Anytime chère. You take care o' de fille an' Remy'll see ya around school, oui?"

Rogue nodded and stepped backward toward the house, offering a wave before saying her good nights and heading in.

Remy's eyes watched her go, the red of his irises starting to glow a bit in the dark.

As soon as she got to her room, Rogue left the lights off and peeked through the curtain, watching Remy look toward the house for a minute before he drove off with his old car.

"Mah gawd, those eyes are somethin' else…" She'd caught the slight glow they put off as he'd stood there. _Ah wonder how often they do that…_

After checking up on Kitty and coaxing her into their room, Rogue changed into comfortable bed clothes and wiped off the little make-up she had, sorry to be out of the pretty dress she'd worn that evening. It looked so nice coupled with Remy's own complementary ensemble.

Gazing at herself in the mirror, she looked at her face and noted the baby cheeks and strong chin. She didn't consider herself particularly pretty, although she'd been described that way by some. She hoped her lips would fill out a bit more and that she'd lose her baby fat. But then again, didn't most girls wish for similar things?

Not wasting another minute of sleep, she turned off the light and stepped out of the bathroom, heading to her comfortable bed and pleasant dreams. That night she dreamt of red on black, but this time she knew what the image belonged to—or rather, _who_.

—

A/N: More French translations, just the more difficult ones.  
>teuf = "party" in verlan (inversed syllable slang) terms. i.e. fȇte is pronounced fe<strong>'<strong>teu. Inverse: teu-fe. Consequently: teuf.  
>S'il vous plaît = "please"<br>Mon père = "my father," masculine form of "my"  
>n'est-ce pas = "isn't that right"<br>Bon journée = "have a good day"  
>De rien = "you're welcome"<br>m'mselle = "miss," slang


	5. N'awlins X Mas

A/N: Please keep the reviews coming! I love reading your thoughts and opinions.

**Tennosei**: Thanks for the compliment. My thoughts exactly about Rogue's age, so I tried to tackle it delicately. I am glad it's keeping your interest so far.

Mail: m[dot]remylebeau[at]gmail[dot]com

—  
>Ch 5—N'awlins X-Mas<br>—

Jackson Square rang with melodious voices singing Christmas carols. It was a traditional rendition on the Sunday before Christmas, and even though she'd heard of the event, she'd never seen something so beautiful. The lights and decorations were beyond what she had imagined, growing up in Mississippi.

_People in N'awlins sure know how to celebrate the season_, she thought in wonderment, her eyes captivated by the lights. She'd caught herself even starting to think of the city name in their lilting Cajun drawl. A smile crept onto her chilled lips as she huddled into herself a bit more. The weather had gotten a bit cooler, but nothing the average jacket couldn't cure.

Winter break had started a couple of weeks ago. If nothing else, St. Aloysius took Christmas very seriously and saw fit to give the students plenty of time to bask in their "Lord and savior's light." Classes wouldn't start up again until mid-January. Rogue made sure to enjoy each day of her vacation sitting in front of the fire at the house, sipping on hot cocoa and chatting with either Raven or Kitty. Her other housemates rarely made an appearance, as they were older and had their own social calendars to attend to. And despite Raven's claim that Irene would be around, the mysterious woman still had yet to show up at the house. Rogue's curiosity would soon get the best of her.

But today was a day of light-hearted enjoyment. Kitty stood beside her roommate, just as awed as Rogue, though she didn't keep her thoughts to herself.

"That's the best thing I've seen since the 4th of July back in Illi..." her voice fading and eyes glazing over for a minute.

Rogue looked over at Kitty when her voice went low, placing a gloved hand on her shoulder and lightly squeezing it.

"Kitty?"

When there was no response from the brunette, Rogue crossed into her line of vision and waved her hands in front of her face, her own green eyes studying the girl's face with concern.

"Huh?" Kitty seemed to snap out of it, blinking her eyes and focusing on Rogue's face. She tried to cover up her lapse in attention by a forced smile.

"Sorry, my mind got carried away. So where to next?"

Kitty hadn't been quite the same since the night of Halloween. Rogue heard her tossing around in her bed at night, little noises which she swore were frightened whimpers floated over to her ears from Kitty's bed. She tried to hide it well, but eventually the nightmares caused Kitty to wake up screaming.

_Been a long time since Ah've had such vivid night afflictions... _Rogue couldn't help but identify with the suffering girl, feeling a closer bond with her roommate since the incident two months ago.

"Doesn't much matter to meh, Kitty. Ah'm happy as a clam to have seen all this." She smiled at her roommate in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Kitty returned the smile, this time a bit more genuine. She nodded her head and started walking away from the carolers and Christmas lights, hands in her jacket pockets and head lifted to stare at the clear sky.

Rogue followed quietly behind her roommate, wondering where the girl's thoughts were headed now that they were leaving the Christmas hullabaloo behind. She felt it would be intrusive if she opened her mouth, so she just kept pace with the shorter brunette and let herself enjoy the night air.

Neither had noticed the pair of glowing yellow eyes tracing their movement.

—

Last year hadn't seemed as festive as this one. Either there were more carolers and lights that evening, or more cause to notice these things better.

Remy's gaze roamed the streets of the neighborhood, keeping watch for the two girls he'd seen leave the house that afternoon. Ever since the incident of Halloween, he'd been making more frequent visits to the house to ensure their safety. The brunette's nightmares hadn't passed his notice, but there was nothing he could do lest he reveal his presence; letting them know he was hanging around their window might not be the best bit of information to let slip.

He and Rogue hadn't had many conversations since the dance, nor had they bumped into each other anymore. It was like a barrier was set in place since that night, and neither was too keen on breaking it down. Remy, for reasons of keeping emotionally distant from his mission, and Rogue... he could only speculate at her reasons. Perhaps they had more in common than he realized.

However, this evening, just a few days before Christmas, he found himself filling with a bit of the holiday cheer the carolers infectiously spread with their light voices and smiling faces.

_Henri betta' have de cookin' taken care of dis year_, he thought idly, not quite possessing as much free time to cook like he had last Christmas, to everyone's disappointment. The Cajun certainly had a way with spices, meats, and rice that might even impress the harshest of food critics.

Snapping out of the idle revelry, Remy resumed his search. _Dere dey are_. The two girls had wandered away from Jackson Square, heading in a general northern direction, silence keeping them company. _Wonder if de night sweats been keepin' de chatterbox quiet_. He smirked at his own jibe, but quickly returned to a serious expression as he silently followed them.

—

Ten minutes of silence from Kitty was enough to make Rogue question just what was going on in her roommate's head.

"C'mon Kitty, ya cain't be quiet fo' the whole night, can ya? What's wrong?"

Kitty abruptly stopped walking, turning her head toward her roommate, her hazel eyes pooling with unspilled tears.

"I'm sorry, I just don't feel like reliving my broken up past, that's all."

Rogue was taken aback by Kitty's somber expression. She didn't know how to respond, so instead of saying anything, she leaned in to give her roommate a hug, rubbing her back as she did so.

Kitty fell into the hug, having needed it more than she'd realized. She let a few tears slip onto Rogue's shoulder as her eyes squeezed shut.

After a few moments of standing like that, Rogue started to pull away, but as she did, she seemed to pass right through Kitty's arms which were still wrapped around her back. With wide eyes, she whispered, "Kitty?"

Not realizing what had happened, Kitty opened her eyes slowly. When she saw that Rogue was standing outside of her arms, her hazel eyes almost bugged out of her head and she staggered back and tripped over an incline in the sidewalk, whipping her arms behind her to catch the fall.

Rogue rushed forward to catch her roommate, but the brunette passed right through her extended arms and landed with a heavy thud on the pavement. Kitty's hands shot up to her forehead as she whimpered in pain.

"Ooooouuuch," she dragged out, fingers pressing hard into her forehead, the pain in her backside not registering for the pressure in her head.

Rogue just stood there, confused and a little nervous.

"Ah... Ah thought that..." Green eyes stared at the top of the brunette head.

The pain started to subside and Kitty dropped her hands to the pavement beneath her, shaking her head before slowly lifting it and opening her eyes to look up at her roommate.

"That was... ohmigod, I don't think I've ever had a headache so bad before." Her voice was hushed and laced with fear.

"Kitty, Ah..." Rogue started and stopped. Squeezing her eyes, she took a breath and tried again. "Ah thought Ah was the only one with this weird... _power_." Jade green met hazel.

"Power...?" Kitty started, unsure what to make of what had just happened. "What power?"

Rogue sat down next to Kitty, but made sure there was some space between them. She lifted up her gloved hands.

"When Ah touch people, they get hurt... Ah don't mean ta do it," she said, her face pleading with Kitty to understand. "It jus' happens. That's wha' Ah wear gloves all the tahm." Her words were starting to blend together as her accent thickened.

Kitty remained silent for a moment. Her eyes followed the lines of Rogue's hands up her arms, and finally to her face. She felt a lurch of sympathy for her roommate just then.

"So that's why you're so closed off?"

The words hit Rogue deeply. She lowered her hands and turned away from Kitty, speaking into the night air:

"Ah guess you could say Ah'm a bad luck charm, 'sfar as social situations go, anyway." The hurt was evident in her tone.

Kitty thought about her roommate's words before she addressed her: "I think you're a pretty good luck charm, actually. If it hadn't been for you being there on Halloween, I might've let Jimmy do..." Her words stopped short, and for a moment, she gathered up her courage, taking a different angle.

"Well, I thought about how you're always so tough and self-confident and I wanted to be like that, too. So I didn't let him touch me like that."

Rogue turned her head back toward Kitty, a smile slowly lifting her lips. Warmth seemed to find her fingers and toes again, which were already starting to feel numb.

"Ah'm not really self-confident... it's just somethin' that helps to deal with mah problems. But Ah'm glad Ah can help someone in some way, at least."

The two girls sat on the sidewalk for a few minutes longer, enjoying the companionable silence that fell over them. They'd never been so honest with one another before, and unbeknownst to both of them, each girl had resolved to help one another through their "abilities."

—

He couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. He'd been darting from building face to alleyway as the girls walked, his eyes following their movement at ground level instead of from trees or building rooftops.

When Rogue pulled away from Kitty's arms like knife through butter, he thought maybe he'd imagined it. The brunette hadn't even _opened her arms_, yet Rogue slipped right through as if they were thin air.

He couldn't deny, then, the second instance when Kitty slipped right through Rogue's arms as she fell onto the paved sidewalk. _An' I t'ought only I had dese 'gifts,' _he mused. But something about Rogue also begged his continued vigilance. Remy watched as the two sat and talked for a bit, wishing he'd found a closer spot to eavesdrop from.

After a moment of lulled silence, Remy saw the girls get up and resume their walk back to their house. He tracked them to make sure they made it without further incidence before hopping up into his customary tree right outside their window. Despite it being dark, his vision worked to enhance what little light surrounded him due to the internal structure of his eyes, the specifics of which were unknown to him*.

—

Like the young Cajun, yellow glowing eyes had caught the events of that evening with clarity. They narrowed as their owner pieced the puzzle together within a cold, calculating mind.

The yellow-eyed observer made sure not to be seen by either party while also keeping in step with their movements. When the two girls were inside the house, the covert observer watched as their follower took a spot in a tree just outside of their room.

"Now I have you," drawled a chilly voice, contempt and mistrust laced within each word.

—

A/N: *I explain the phenomena of Remy's night vision/glowing eyes in chapter 8, in case you were wondering.  
>Apologies for the shorter chapter. It needed to end this way for the sake of surprises later on.<p> 


	6. To honor and obey

A/N: Thanks for sticking with my story this far. I'm really liking where the characters are having me go, and I hope you do, too. (Since we all know the character writes the story, not the other way round.)

**LolBookWorm**: lol it _was _pretty obvious, wasn't it? Thank you for the compliment. Now let's see if it'll get better!

This chapter contains a flashback scene. It will be denoted with « » around the full scene.

Mail: m[dot]remylebeau[at]gmail[dot]com

—  
>Ch 6—To honor and obey<br>—

Graduation came around surprisingly quickly for the Cajun charmer. A little too quickly, perhaps. Since right before his birthday, nothing had been quite the same. Jean-Luc had tested him on a daily basis during the first two weeks of November, claiming that his son needed to experience the value of their work more often in order to really appreciate what the Thieves' Guild was all about.

Remy's tests consisted of thieving jobs, spying on Guild enemies, and reconnaissance on a certain house owned by the blonde woman they only knew as Raven.

He'd carefully watched her routine for a few weeks, figuring out where her offices were located after piecing together the different routes she took every day and finding some common ground between them. _Sho' is paranoid, dis one_, he often thought to himself.

After one particularly hectic recon mission in which the blonde had almost caught him in her offices, Remy quickly learned to improve his running speed and to quiet his steps further. She had unusually acute senses.

Although his father had never told Remy _why _they were so focused on this same woman, he started to think it had more to do with Rogue and Kitty than even his father knew. From what he'd observed during his time hidden from the household's sight, Raven was quite fond of Rogue. However, Kitty's disposition was becoming more quiet and mature, two qualities which Raven was very appreciative of.

Often when he watched the roommates interact, he remembered the night he'd seen Kitty's unusual display when Rogue was comforting her. The brunette girl was more like Remy than either of them would ever know, and he intended to keep it just that way. Although something about Rogue still rubbed him in a strange way. He hadn't seen any evidence of unique _talents _from her, but perhaps he hadn't spent enough time observing her and her daily routines. There had to be something specific about her that would draw Raven in so strongly. The blonde was like a vulture waiting to capture her vulnerable prey. She made Remy wish he wasn't bound to the Thieves' Guild; were he given the chance, he would take care of her once and for all, if only to spare Rogue the ravenous attention of her foster mother. For her part, Rogue seemed blissfully unaware of Raven's motivations.

Several missions of this nature went successfully for Remy. Finally, on the night of November 18th, Jean-Luc slapped his son on the back with a wide grin, declaring the young LeBeau worthy to become a fully fledged member of the Thieves' Guild. Remy was pleased with himself at first. Until he heard the next part.

« "Mon fils, today de day ya been waitin' fo'."

Remy's lips curved into a knowing smirk, arms crossed over his chest as he mentally patted himself on the back and tallied up his successful "errands" over the last several weeks.

Jean-Luc walked over to his son, joining him in the comfort of the antiquated sitting room. In honor of his son's monumental birthday, the LeBeau men returned home to the bayou for the week. The antebellum house had a smoky air about it, and not just from the sweet-smelling cigarettes often lit up within. It was a comforting feeling that reminded Remy of lazy summer days when Tante Mattie would whip up some home cookin' and treat the LeBeau boys to a late lunch. That was when Etienne was still with them.

His attention was called back to the present at the sound of his father's next words.

"De T'ieves Guild wann' welcome its newest membe' sta'tin' wit' a truce." Jean-Luc motioned toward the doorway, through which a familiar blonde slowly entered. Her curvacious form was traced in sweet poison, reminiscent of her name. He'd known this girl since their childhood, but today she seemed entirely unknown to him.

"Bella Donna—yo' new wife-t'-be."

The comfortable feeling took a cliff dive out the window, fluttering away just like the smoke from Remy's clove cigarette. »

It was an unexpected 18th birthday present, to be sure. As he shifted his position on the stiff chair, his mind's eye returned to the image of Bella Donna that day on the bayou. She certainly had grown into a beauty in her own right. As gorgeous as Aphrodite, but as deadly as a powerful poison, one which he felt slowly permeating his veins each minute he sat in the uncomfortable chair. Something about her drew him in, draped over his consciousness, and played twisted games with his mind. She'd caught him in her web like the black widow luring in her mate, only to eat him alive when she was satiated. The thought made him shudder.

When his name was announced, he shrugged off the image of Bella Donna Boudreaux and walked the customary length of the stage, was handed his diploma, and quickly got down. He didn't look back as he walked away from the last four years of his life. He had his duty to uphold.

—

The next day started out with a brilliant sunrise. Yellow-orange rays passed slowly over his still form as he stood on the balcony outside of the LeBeau apartment. Decatur Street was empty and silent at this hour. Dawn didn't often bring out many people, but Remy hadn't been able to sleep for most of the night. Today he would be extending the LeBeau name to someone he didn't altogether dislike, but didn't quite like, either. For the Guild's sake, he went along with the plan. The unification of the Thieves and the Assassins would be a day remembered in their mutual history. That was worth more than his objections, as internal and heated as they were.

But for some reason, that morning his mind focused on a pair of brilliant jade eyes gazing into his own hellfire depths.

_De p'tite... she been keepin' away lately, but dat make dis easier in some way_. His eyes narrowed as the brightening ray of light caught his strong chin and started to rise.

The hand leaning against the sleek black railing started to heat up. Remy paid it little mind.

Silent as the expert thief he was, Henri LeBeau entered the sitting room of the apartment and caught sight of the back of his brother's head, his own tilting slightly as he watched the sun's rays wash over the uncombed russet mess.

Henri's nose soon had other ideas as it sensed the distinct aroma of chicory coming from the kitchen, the fresh pot as yet untouched. A small smile erupted on his lips before he quietly prepared two steaming cups.

It wasn't long before the wafting vapors caught another LeBeau nose. Henri passed Remy a welcome cup while joining his younger brother on the balcony.

Remy's light "merci" went unanswered. Henri's bare scalp gleamed in the rising sunlight while his cup met eager lips.

A few minutes of companionable silence passed before a low voice cut through the air.

"La femme?"

Remy's gaze hardened and his hand gripped the cup. That was all the answer his brother needed.

"We all do what we don' always wan', non? Now be yo' turn ta live up ta de LeBeau nom, mon frère."

Finally the still-piping cup met silent lips, its aromatic liquid a hot, stinging relief from the thoughts on his mind. He reminded himself to shake off the image of those beautiful greens and instead, conjured up a head of golden waves and toxic lips.

"Mais non, how you know dis ain' exactement what Remy wan'."

Henri's low chuckle reverberated through the air around them as he turned to face his brother.

"Because ol' Henri know you, Remy. You not one fo' de settled life. Vivre et laisser vivre."

With that, the older LeBeau brother headed back into the apartment, a ray of light catching on the band of gold on his left hand.

_Obviously you jus' fine wit' de loss o' yo' freedom, but I ain't_, Remy thought darkly.

—

The elegantly decorated cathedral was filled to the brim with guests from both sides: a select few on the bride's side shot plenty of menacing glares at the groom and his side. Even on this "joyous occasion" some members of their respective Guild could not set aside their hostilities. Not everyone paid attention to the tension, however.

Remy put on a neutral face as he stood at the front of the altar, black tuxedo donning a purple neckline and purple cummerbund, signifying the main color of the Thieves' Guild.

When the musician began her rendition of "Ave Maria," the attendees all turned to watch Bella Donna Boudreaux walk down the aisle, preceded by some distant female relatives.

Remy's eyes watched her as she slowly walked toward him, accompanied by her father, Marius Boudreaux of the Assassins' Guild. The emotion behind Remy's unusual eyes slowly shifted from mildly unpleasant to curious, and then to appreciative. Despite the initially unfavorable turn of events in his life, he had to admit that the granddaughter of the Assassins' Guild patriarch certainly looked gorgeous in her white gown. The bluebird roses adorning the crown of her head were a tasteful addition and matched her bouquet perfectly.

After Marius had "given away" the bride, Remy held out his arm and she took hold of it, giving him a controlled smile.

About fifteen minutes after the priest began, the two Guilds finally became united as Remy LeBeau sealed the honorable estate with a kiss on Bella Donna's full lips.

He couldn't have been aware of the blazing eyes trying to burn two holes into his head from one of the front pews.

"Ode to Joy" led the recessional down the aisle, the new man and his wife heading the bridal party.

Once outside the cathedral entrance, an angry voice spat out:

"Remy LeBeau!"

The Cajun's head turned as he released Bella Donna's arm, which had suddenly gripped tightly onto the fabric of his tuxedo.

"Ouias?"

"Fo' de honah of de Assassins, I challenge you."

Remy didn't have to ask what sort of a challenge Julien Boudreaux meant. He knew quite well that his new brother-in-law loathed the idea of a Guild unification and would do anything to harm his enemies, which only twenty minutes before, was the whole of the Thieves' Guild.

The young LeBeau would be wasting his time if he tried to talk Julien out of a duel, so he proceeded to remove his tuxedo jacket and unbutton his shirt, handing them to Henri, who had silently joined his brother's side. Remy held a hand out to stop Henri's interference.

"Dis don' conce'n you, Henri. Let Remy deal wit' dis." Henri remained stony-faced, but did not intervene.

A middle-ranking member of the Thieves' Guild walked up to Remy, holding out a gold-hilted rapier, which Remy wordlessly took. With his free hand, he pulled a small fleur-de-lis dagger out of his dress boot and turned to face Julien Boudreaux.

Bella Donna's furious brother was already in position. The respective members of each Guild stood far from the two duelists, creating a wide circle for their deadly tango.

Without any pretense, Julien took the first few swipes, which Remy avoided easily thanks to his acrobatic reflexes. His lithe body ducked and dodged each subsequent swipe of Julien's blades. His feet moved almost at the speed of light with such buoyant, easy steps.

Jean-Luc LeBeau stood toward the front of the dueling circle, brows furrowing and eyes flashing in anger. This was not his idea of a unified Guild.

Marius Boudreaux's angry glare told a similar story as it was aimed right at Remy LeBeau, who still danced around his son without a scratch on him.

Julien was starting to take heavy, panting breaths, while Remy's breathing was even and practically care-free. Only the glistening beads of moisture on his bare pectorals revealed the amount of heat his body was producing.

Remy's ease only angered Julien, so with a burst of coiled up hatred, he stabbed at his target, managing to catch the middle of his torso.

A sharp sting of pain shot through Remy's abdomen as he took a step back to steady himself. Several drops of blood had fallen to his polished black boot, but it wasn't a deep wound. Moving his gaze over the vivid red spots, he slowly raised his head and focused all of his building anger on the man who'd caught him by surprise.

Red eyes glowed a sickening crimson on ebony, the fire spreading from his eyes to his hands. Both the dagger and his rapier started to glow a faint pink as he lunged forward, an angry growl ripping past his throat as both blades caught his opponent square in the gut. The energy of the blades traveled through his central mass and Julien's clothes lit up in red-hot flames as he fell backward, eyes frozen in their wide open state.

Bella Donna turned her head away from the gruesome sight, angry and hurt tears quickly forcing their way to the surface despite her grinding teeth trying to hold in the ranging emotions she felt.

Jean-Luc and Marius both rushed toward Remy, but the LeBeau patriarch reached his son first, hands dragging him away from the circle. His voice hissed out in an angry tone:

"You dishonor de T'ieves today and fo' de deat' of Julien Boudreaux, de Assassins be wantin' yo' head. Get out of N'Awlins befo' dey catch up wit' you Remy, an' don' come back!"

His father gave him a fierce shove away from the cathedral. Remy's eyes no longer burned in anger. Deep hurt and betrayal were masked by a stony expression as he dropped his blades. Before he left the only family he'd known behind, he snatched his long brown coat from inside the Rolls Royce that brought them to the wedding earlier. He then ran off toward the north and didn't once look back.

—

A/N: If enough people are interested, I can flesh out the LeBeau family's history further in a standalone story. I'm pretty well-versed in the LeBeau-verse due to intense study while growing up (read=nerdy comic book pursuits). Let me know your thoughts with reviews!

Translations:  
>exactement = "exactly"<br>Vivre et laisser vivre = "live and let live"


	7. New acquaintances

A/N: Many thanks for the new review/story alerts. Keep 'em coming! Also, I hope y'all are having a spectacular July 4th. I made a boudin and andouille gumbo with brown roux for the special occasion. It's rainin' down fireworks here in New Orleans.

**Tennosei**: Believe it or not, I hadn't read the Gambit Origins comic until yesterday. I'd only seen 3 scanned pages and went from there, filling in the blanks. Figured I should get a copy lol. I _am _planning on longer chapters, just needed to get some basics out of the way. Thanks for the continued interest!

Another flashback scene in this chapter, denoted by « ».

Mail: m[dot]remylebeau[at]gmail[dot]com

—  
>Ch 7—New acquaintances<br>—

The end of June was a little more satisfying than she thought it would be, and now her first year of high school had come to a close. The "freshman" stigma would be lifted from her shoulders and she would be able to move on to bigger and better things as a sophomore. However, the end of the school year still left something to be desired.

Rogue's personal life had much improved since the first few months at St. Aloysius. Since the female population was pretty low (being that the school just started accepting co-eds), the girls she did meet tended to stick to their own long-standing cliques. It was all rather disheartening, but at the same time, she didn't care that much. It was only her desire to have friends that kept her heart strung up in knots at each new rejection. After several months of being the outcast, people around her were starting to see the strength in her eyes for what it was: determination and self-confidence. Maybe not the self-confidence she wanted in being able to interact with others, but it was the sort that said she would do her utmost best to excel, since no one was watching out for her, but her.

This determination led some other students to be curious about her. This curiosity slowly turned into questioning glances, and finally, after the Halloween dance, she was approached. It was an early January morning, right before her first class. The memory was still pretty strong in her mind.

« "Hello," came the smooth, cool voice. Rogue whipped around from digging in her locker, eyes wide and mouth poised to give whoever it was a piece of her mind.

When her green eyes met a pair of deep ocean blues, her intended barb fell flat. Those eyes looking back at her were unnerving, as if their owner could feel her isolation. The girl smiled at Rogue's surprise.

"I am sorry for catching you in surprise. I merely wanted to introduce myself. My name is Ororo Munroe." A delicate, evenly bronzed hand of rich mahogany was held out for Rogue's own.

Rogue gazed at the hand for a second, hesitating just a bit before shaking it firmly with her own gloved hand. She was caught off guard that someone had actually approached her in a friendly manner, instead of giving her suspicious and mostly unfriendly glances.

This girl, Ororo Munroe, had unusual hair for her complexion, its overall silvery white tresses similar to her own snowy streak. She was certainly a pretty girl, and looked to be only slightly older than herself. Before she could continue her mental scrutiny of this girl, she caught movement out of the side of her eye. A red-haired girl down the hallway was waving at Ororo, trying to get her attention. The redhead's posture looked practiced, her hair perfectly parted, and her clothing screaming of affluence. Rogue instantly took a dislike to her.

Not to be rude to the girl who'd been brave enough to say hi, Rogue focused on her and offered a very small smile. "Nice ta meet ya. Ah'm Rogue."

Ororo seemed to ignore the redhead's attempts to draw her attention, instead also observing the girl who called herself "Rogue" with a careful eye. She nodded, asking:

"I assume there is a story behind the name, one which merits itself quite well?" Receiving only an uneasy look from Rogue, the white-haired girl backed off. _Another time, I shall have to discover the events which created this so-called Rogue._

"My apologies, Rogue, for any interference. I approached as a potential friend, not as an enemy."

Her voice was so smooth and lulling that Rogue found her shoulders loosening up and her eyes lost some of their mistrust. _Ah wonder why she's talking to meh, _Rogue couldn't help but think, curious about this snowy-haired beauty, but unable to let go of her caution.

"It's al'raht, Ah know people are curious about mah name. Um, but Ah'm late ta class, sorreh ta have ta rush off—"

Ororo shook her head and offered a friendly smile, giving her final reply, "No, I understand. The end of the school year is approaching quicker than one might think. It was most pleasant to meet you. I would not be averse to similar encounters in the future."

Rogue nodded her head and turned to shut her locker. She headed off to her class but found her mind wandering to Ororo and what her motivations could be. _It's so hard to think that anyone could be int'rested in mah friendship. Oh lawd, _she mentally berated herself, _have Ah become so bitter? _»

Since that day in January, Rogue found herself chatting with Ororo Munroe more often. The girl seemed to find her at the oddest of times, usually when Rogue was in deep concentration about one issue or another. She had learned that the redheaded girl was named Jean Grey, and that both girls were juniors that year. _How is it that Ah seem t' attract tha older crowd_, she mused. They were also transfer students into St. Aloysius, but where they'd originally come from, she couldn't get the answer to. Their English certainly didn't sound like they were from around these parts, same as her roommate, Kitty.

Her mind had also been wandering to a certain red-on-black eyed student that once showed her attention. She'd known it was his birthday in November. It was hard to miss the handmade signs plastered all over walls and various lockers. His group of friends made sure to announce the happy event to the entire school. Remy LeBeau wasn't short his share of popularity, but she'd learned a while back that he hadn't earned it by being arrogant, like other popular kids. On the contrary, he was caring and considerate.

Precisely for that reason, she'd distanced herself from him. She could feel his unique gaze on her back a few times when she'd almost managed to bump into him, but swiftly turned in the opposite direction. As difficult as it may have been for him to understand, she couldn't let herself get close to anyone. Even her friendship with Kitty was strained at first, but it had turned into a pleasant association because the two girls seemed to understand one another from their slightly different perspectives. And Kitty respected her "condition" without much question. Remy LeBeau didn't seem the type to easily keep his hands off, even if in a friendly manner. He tended to touch people's shoulders, to pat their backs, and to strategically rub girls' hands when he was engrossed in a conversation with them. The charms of his ways weren't lost on Rogue during those few encounters.

But it was already his last year, and he had graduated by now. Throughout the school year, Rogue kept telling herself he'd soon be gone and she could breathe again. She felt a twist of unhappiness at the thought, but her self-preservation was more important than seeing his pretty face around school.

"Rogue!"

The voice shook her out of her thoughts as her hand was poised over her journal. She looked up at the excitement on her roommate's face.

"Hey, guess who came to visit!"

Rogue's brows lifted in question, but before she could ask, she turned at the sound of shoes click-clacking down the hall. A familiar white-haired head poked through with Kitty's waving invitation, Ororo's expression serene with a hint of smile.

"Hello, Rogue. We came by to ask for your company today."

Jean Grey joined the tall girl and offered a small smile.

Rogue couldn't help but smile in return. Jean didn't end up being the stuck-up type that she'd originally assumed, but it was still hard to push past the outwardly affluent appearance of the redhead.

"Thanks foah the invite, both of ya. Ah was just gonna finish up some writin' and then take a walk. Mind waitin' a few minutes till Ah'm done?" Rogue indicated the pencil in her hand.

Kitty huffed indignantly and pulled on Rogue's chair, trying to get her roommate to forego the writing. "C'mon Rogue, it's such a gorgeous day out! Don't you wanna know where we're going?" Hazel eyes twinkled in excitement. The light from the open window turned them a hint more golden-green than normal. That might also be due to her olive-colored v-neck tee.

Sighing exasperatedly, Rogue dropped her pencil and popped the two items into the top desk drawer, making to get up and injecting a bit of annoyance into her voice:

"Fine, but Ah need ta change, first. Y'all happy?" The slight tug on her lips was a giveaway of her true mood.

Ororo's eyes seemed to twinkle at her, but she merely said, "Please do take your time. We shall be awaiting at the door."

With that, Jean waved a goodbye and followed after Ororo. Kitty fidgeted in excitement and grinned hugely at her roommate.

"Oh, it's gonna be such a fun day! We're gonna hit the aquarium and then ride the ferry! Have you ever been to that side of the city? I totally haven't and I can't wait!"

Kitty's chatterbox personality was finally returning during the second half of the school year, which Rogue was both appreciate of and annoyed by. But at least the girl was recovering from her Halloween ordeal. Rogue offered a small smile at Kitty's obvious excitement before shooing her out of the room so she could change.

The weather was warm but slightly breezy, so Rogue put on a light cotton sundress with short sleeves. Wary of her "condition," she also wore flesh-colored tights and white opera-length cotton gloves. A light white headband completed the look and showed off the white streaks in her hair as they dangled by her face. Slipping on a pair of comfortable sandals, she finally joined the other girls by the back door and gave them an "Ah'm ready!" before they all headed out.

Raven watched all four girls head out before stepping out into the hallway. She'd enjoyed a light breakfast with Rogue and Kitty that morning, afterward claiming she had some work to finish before heading off to her study. Her eyes started to glow as she walked into her study and shut the door. The blinds and curtain were pulled shut, so that her eyes' luminescence was even brighter in the dark room.

"What new information have you been able to gather?" The question came from a corner of the room which housed a small desk and chair. The woman was thin and somewhat tucked away, as if she'd been sitting there for a while.

"As you predicted, the weather witch has come looking for Rogue, specifically. Her companion is a bit more difficult to place, but I imagine she must have cognitive abilities which earlier blocked even you out."

The woman stood from the chair and slowly made her way toward Raven, the dark sunglasses she wore seeming ridiculous in the dark room. But Raven knew better. She held her hand out as Irene Adler reached for her.

"Then we must take the next open opportunity to be rid of them. I want nothing to get in the way of our plans for Rogue." Her warm hand stroked Raven's cheek affectionately before she continued, "And I know how much she means to you. In less than a year, she's become a part of this household and even attached to you. We need to keep her safe."

Raven nodded as she covered Irene's pale hand in her own blue grasp.

—

Their little adventure was turning into a very pleasant afternoon for Rogue. She hadn't expected to be having as much fun, but the Aquarium of the Americas really brought out the compassion in her as she marveled at the multitude of fish and aquatic life swimming in various tanks and pools. The summer air was impregnated with brine from the nearby Gulf, making the day's events all the more enjoyable. Rogue always did like the water.

"Look at this!" Kitty's voice yelled out for her companions, her hand pointing restlessly toward the gigantic octopus, who seemed to be watching her.

Jean watched it look back at them, her face crinkling up a little as she got a feeling off of it.

"What is it, Jean?" The soothing voice of Ororo came from just a few feet away as she joined her redheaded friend in front of the octopus tank.

"I felt... some sort of _intelligence _as it watched me. I've heard about various aquatic creatures' cognitive abilities, but I thought that was reserved for the mammalian species."

Ororo glanced at the red octopus that floated in its tank, its tentacles carefully gripping onto the glass as if reaching out for them.

"Perhaps it is wondering the same of you." Blue eyes twinkled mischievously as Jean turned to smile at her and shake hear head. The two started to walk away and Jean passed the creature one last look.

"Honestly, sometimes I think your wit is as sharp as our friend's temper." Jean inclined her head in Rogue's direction, who was actually smiling at something Kitty was saying.

Rogue turned toward the two girls as they rejoined the little group, Kitty finally stopping in her stream of words to grab onto Ororo's hands.

"Let's go to the ferry!"

Ororo gave the younger girl a slight nod before Kitty tugged on her hands, effectively dragging the taller girl along. Jean couldn't help the laugh as she watched her friends head toward the Canal Street landing.

As Rogue and Jean made to follow, Jean suddenly stopped and gripped her head. Rogue turned to the girl and started to hold out a hand in concern, before quickly pulling it back.

Instead, she asked, "Are ya okay, Jean? Headache?"

Jean took in a few deep breaths and then rubbed her temple, turning a forced smile on her companion. "Yes, must be."

Rogue nodded but was unsure as to the truth of Jean's answer. Still, she obviously didn't want to talk about it, so she'd respect the older girl's wishes.

When Jean gasped out and again reached for her temple, Rogue carefully pulled the girl toward a nearby public bench to give Jean a chance to sit. She fanned at her with the aquarium brochure, a worried look in her green eyes.

"Jean...?" Her voice was clearly unsure. She didn't want to pry if the girl didn't want to talk.

"I'm... I'm okay," came Jean's reply, her fingers giving her temple a final rub before her hand dropped to her lap. When she lifted her head to look at Rogue, her mossy green eyes spotted a figure leaning against a nearby doorway, a pair of sunglasses hiding his eyes. His arms were crossed and he seemed to be facing their direction. _Is this the source...? _she wondered, getting an uneasy feeling about the tall man.

When Rogue's voice didn't seem to register with Jean, she turned her head to look where the redhead seemed to be focused. The person hadn't darted away, but stood there looking all too familiar and even slightly cocky.

Jean turned back to Rogue in question, having felt a wall fall down in place within Rogue's mind. She looked questioningly at the younger girl.

"Rogue? Do you know him?"

Without separating her gaze from his form, she replied, "Ah did, once."

He sauntered over in that easy pace of his, coming over to the bench and leaning against a nearby wall. He didn't remove his sunglasses when he spoke.

"Long time no see, chère."

"Remy." She greeted curtly, but her hands wrapped around herself as if to provide some comfort agains the obviously difficult situation. Jean wasn't sure what was going on between the two, but she knew something was distinct about this "Remy." Standing up, she planted a polite look on her face and addressed Rogue:

"I need to catch up with the other girls. I'll see you at the landing?"

Rogue's mumbled "sho" earned a nod from Jean as she headed off after the other two girls.

After Jean had left, Remy took advantage of the open spot on the bench and sat next to Rogue, leaning comfortably against the bench back and looking at the pretty girl next to him.

Her back was rigid and her arms seemed tense around her waist. She carefully followed the line of his crossed leg up to his face. Lucky for the sunglasses or she'd be silenced by his burning gaze.

"Why'd you come here? Ah don't think this was quite a coincidence."

"Non, dat's true." His reply was curt and slightly aggravating. Rogue turned fully toward him and shifted her body so she was now crossing her arms over her chest, a little indignantly.

"Ya didn't answer mah question."

A smirk grew on his lips before he replied, "Remy just wanted t' see de lovely femme befo' he had t' go."

His words caught her off guard. _What does he mean 'go'? _Her voice brought life to her words, and try as hard as she might, she couldn't take the uncertain waver out of her words:

"What do ya mean by that?"

The smirk turned into an almost sad smile. "Just dat, p'tite. Remy is done wit' schoolin' and has no more need t' be here." With those words, he finally lowered the sunglasses from his face to look at her sincerely.

"But he be t'inkin' of you when he go, chère."

Rogue didn't know what to think. She wanted answers, but she didn't want to appear too eager. She risked her composure by letting out the burning question.

"Where are ya goin'?"

Remy's eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, enough for her to catch a note of displeasure in his face. _Wrong question_, she thought, mentally kicking herself.

"Cherie, Remy need t' be goin' now." He stood up and replaced the sunglasses, giving her a lingering look before he made his way toward the aquarium's exit.

Starting to panic, Rogue got up quickly and tried to fast walk toward him. She didn't want to run and seem desperate. But desperate for what? _It's not lahk we've talked in months or anythin'. He cain't possibly mean that much to meh_, she reasoned.

"Wait up foah a minute!" When she reached the door and looked out, he was nowhere in sight. Her face started to flush from both the panic and the realization that she might not see him again.

"Remy..."

—

The rest of the day simply lost much of its excitement. Rogue was quiet for much of the ferry ride and walk down the west bank of the city. It looked more old-time than much of the metro uptown of New Orleans, but she didn't notice the little details of the place. Her mind couldn't extract itself from both regret and burning questions. She shouldn't have been so distant when he came to see her. After all, he'd made a special effort just to find her and say goodbye. That had to mean he thought about her since Halloween.

"Hey Rogue, look how pretty!" Kitty was pointing along the water as the group made their way back to the Canal Street landing. The day was finally coming to a close, and she could sulk at home.

"Mhm, it's al'raht."

Jean had surreptitiously glanced at Rogue throughout the day, trying to figure out what was suddenly bothering the younger girl. Surely it had to do with that man that had shown up when they were leaving the aquarium, but she couldn't place what it was about him that troubled her.

When they finally got back on land, Rogue lagged behind the others who had tried to find out what the problem is and had come up blank. They were finally letting her sulk without any interruptions from a potentially cheerful conversation. The gated yard of the foster home was quickly coming up, and when they entered the house, Kitty waved goodby to Ororo and to Jean. Rogue barely offered an acknowledging nod.

"Rogue, c'mon, what—"

Not giving Kitty a chance to question her further, she grabbed a change of clothes from their room and locked herself in the bathroom. Sparkling jade eyes looked at her own reflection in the mirror.

She refused to cry. Her own mind was throwing the whole situation out of proportion. Just because he'd bothered to be nice to her and tried to get to know her last year, and she had purposely avoided him after that for his own "safety," that was no reason too—

Rogue laughed bitterly at the reflection, gleaning some satisfaction at how the ugliness from within was showing itself on the outside. She roughly swiped at her eyes and started to change into comfortable house clothing while trying to quell the further musings of her guilty mind.

That night, after avoiding Kitty and the others in the house, she'd grabbed her journal and climbed up into the tree outside her window. She'd discovered this comfortable spot last December and felt safe in the branches' embrace.

**June 30th**

**Today started out fun, but ended in disaster. Maybe I'm just bein' a dumb kid, but I wish I could crawl into my bed and just forget the rest of the world exists. I feel like my head is swimmin' like it used to last year, after Cody.**

**Ororo and Jean were bein' super nice, but after a while, I couldn't have fun today. I saw **_**him**_ **and he just looked at me like he knew me for ages. Like he knew somethin' I didn't. I guess he knew he'd never see me again, because he said he came to say goodbye. And I was just so distant to him. I tried to keep away because of my... **_**powers**_**, and look where it got me.**

**I don't know why I feel this way, but somethin' about him... his intense eyes, his devilish smirk, maybe his smooth voice and accent. I don't know, but it all just hit me today. I'm really gonna miss him...**

She ended the entry there and leaned back against the comforting branch. The events of today were wearing her out so that she started to close her eyes. The cool breeze of the evening washed lightly against her face and she felt her body release some of the day's tension.

Before she knew it, Rogue had fallen asleep in the tree so frequently occupied by the man of her dreams.


	8. A choice, whether good or bad

A/N: Thanks for the new story favorite. Please keep reviews coming. They're great to read and _do _provide a source of influence to this story.

There is a flashback scene in this chapter, again denoted by « ». Also, this chapter gets a tiny bit graphic, so ye be warned!

**Jess**: I guess you meant Storm & Jean? We'll be seeing more of them, don't worry. Same goes for Destiny & Mystique. Thanks for the continued interest! Say hi to my folks, won't you? :]

**Ethan**: I took the advice and combined the two chapters. That was my original thought, just needed to get them out as they came to mind. This looks better though. Thanks!

Mail: m[dot]remylebeau[at]gmail[dot]com

—  
>Ch 8—A choice, whether good or bad<br>—

Lights twinkled above his head as he leaned it against the cold concrete wall. The street lamps weren't particularly bright, but his eyes had been so bloodshot (which looked particularly unholy for his unique eyes) that even a mild light would aggravate his vision. His head tilted away from the light, a russet curtain sheltering his aching eyes. The locks were getting a bit long, enough that even the front layers could be pulled back into a ponytail. It had been way too long since he'd had a proper cut, but at least he was clean. A good, long bath seemed like a luxury at this point, so he had to settle with sneaking a few showers in unoccupied hotel rooms. Given his excellent thief training, getting into said rooms was easy enough.

Gaining funds for more extravagant things like food? A tiny bit more involved. Due to the nature of his exile, Remy had left the city abruptly and without anything but what was on his back and in his pockets. This amounted to a less-than-acceptably-full wallet, his telescoping bo staff, and a few decks of playing cards. Thank god for small miracles, at least. The cards had come in handy when he broke into the latest shop. It felt wrong to resort to such petty thievery. After all, since being brought into the fold by Jean-Luc when he was a young boy, he'd embarked on serious and dangerous heists for the Guild, not this small peanuts business. It was almost a blow to his dignity. The keyword being "almost."

When his stomach rumbled, indicating a nagging hunger he'd been trying to suppress, he conceded to another "acquisition" run. Never from those particularly needy, though. That had always been the Guild rule: take from those more affluent so as to maintain good relations with the common folk. The people of New Orleans and surrounding parishes came to appreciate the Guild as a respectable part of their town.

However, front-pedaling his thoughts to the present, Remy concentrated his gaze on the still waters of the mostly abandoned Bayou Chene, where his charging card was his intended weapon against a nearby gator.

Most people didn't know about the small residences still dotting the waters, and the residents wanted to keep it that way. He'd found himself running between Baton Rouge and Lafayette, both places which the Guild had its reach, but not a strong enough presence to easily detect him. He was reluctant to completely leave the area for many reasons, one of the top on his list being his familiarity with the region. If he were truly forced to leave southern Louisiana, the heartache of missing the bayous and the feel of a hot Louisiana day would be great indeed.

The second explosion in under 10 minutes startled enough of the local life that the water rippled just slightly. His young prey, however, remained merely a few feet out of reach, its head lazily roaming the area to find the source of the explosions. This one was young and inexperienced, providing Remy with the perfect dinner. And breakfast, lunch, snacks...

Ever the determined hunter, Remy took out his bo staff and ran a charge through it, aiming carefully before taking a few lightning quick steps on the moist land.

An hour later, the small fire crackled in the dimming light as he gnawed at the remainder of a charred piece of meat. He hadn't managed to finish the whole gator, but his charge got the meat dry enough to stay well-preserved as he made his way along the rivers and parishes.

During his impromptu meal, Remy's mind started to wander. _What's de point now dat de Guild t'rew me out? Seem like a waste of a good t'ief, but soon as dey re'lize... _His thoughts continued along that vein until he ended up right where he started: without a purpose nor a home. He'd even contemplated risking the exile and returning to New Orleans, but quickly scratched that idea out as suicidal for the time being. He needed to earn his keep by gaining more skills, and perhaps after enough time gone, he could return a hero rather than a shame on his Guild name.

The weeks did not go by quickly.

—

Each subsequent time he hunted, he started to feel a nagging pain at the base of his skull, right below his ponytail. The pain soon turned into a sting, which gradually evolved into a head-splitting throb.

Six months had passed since the ill-fated wedding day. Today he was at least twenty pounds lighter, a dangerous situation given that he barely had any fat on him to begin with. The food he'd caught in the rivers and bayous along his path was barely enough to keep him sated, and worse yet, they, too, hardly had any fat on them to speak of. The disadvantage of river food was its annoying penchant toward small, muscled critters. Hardly enough to keep a man of six feet and one inch in height healthy.

Worst yet, when he tried to hunt lately, the incessant pain wouldn't leave his head in peace. He had to resort to hunting without his mutant abilities. Although he'd been a well-trained combatant, regular hunting proved more difficult than it seemed. The last few attempts ended in a handful of small snakes and an unsatisfied stomach.

As the pains in his head got worse even without using his charging ability, Remy made his way back toward populated areas in case he'd need specialized help. Baton Rouge was the most logical choice, as it was at the furthest extent of the Guild's long reach within his traveling distance. Finding decent places to clean up wasn't as easy as it had been just a few months prior. His head almost never stopped pounding with pain.

One late night while attempting to acquire some new funds, Remy was skillfully working at a lock that seemed easy enough to get through. The familiar throb started at the back of his head and rose upward.

_No no no no no no_, the chanted to himself, squeezing his eyes and trying to regulate his breathing. This was the worst possible time for this pain to hit. He was running out of money and would find himself dead on the street if he couldn't gain control of this pain. Despite the horrible timing, the pain shot to the front of his skull and he gripped his forehead, dropping the metal picks and leaning heavily against the door. This wasn't a very populated area, though surely if he didn't get out of there soon, some passing car or person would spot him and know what he was up to.

He couldn't think straight. The pain was lacerating through his brain like a hot needle, rendering him temporarily blind. The heat built up in his body and he felt his hands burn like they never had before. The door beneath him started to give way as it radiated his own heat back at him. A few seconds later, it collapsed in on itself and he fell with it.

The heat burned his skin so badly that he crawled away blindly, reaching out for any surface his burning hands could reach. He'd just managed to scramble away quick enough before the superheated door exploded and shards of metal and wood flew out all over, a few hitting Remy's pained hands.

Finally, his eyes were able to open and he looked at the mess all around him. The shop's entrance was in shambles and he was gripping onto a light pole, which he noticed was getting oddly hot—

With the speed of a cheetah, he jumped away from the pole and winced from the pain from his aching body. It exploded in much the same way the door had. This time he wasn't far enough away as bits of hot metal came raining down.

A few people who'd heard the noise from the exploding door came running to see what had caused the commotion. Shocked gasps echoed through the small crowd. No one seemed to take a step to help the obviously injured man crawling along the sidewalk. When the light pole exploded, several people screamed and ran in all directions to escape the shards. A young man in pajamas had been near enough to Remy that, when he saw the pole explode, his quick thinking pushed him forward to grab Remy's coat and haul him as quickly as he could away from the sidewalk. When the metal pieces hit the ground, they were a few feet away and the man was breathing heavily, wide-eyed gaze locked on the spot Remy had just been lying in.

Remy, for his part, was coughing up a storm and couldn't see through tear-filled eyes. The heat of his hands was excruciating and the pain in his head wouldn't leave him be. He finally passed out.

—

When his eyes opened to a dark room, he groggily sat up in the uncomfortable... bed, was it? His hands were no longer burning, but they were wrapped in heavy bandages, as was his waist as he looked down and felt along his body. He was wearing minty green pants that looked oddly similar to hospital pants. His gaze traveled the length of the room and he realized that he actually _was _in a hospital, though he didn't have the faintest clue which hospital it was, or even which city he was in. _If I'm still in a city, dat is_, his mind amended.

His feet slowly swung off of the bed as he threw off the covers. The wires attached to his chest and head tethered him to his spot. His brows knit together as he tried finding their source and individually disconnected the machines surrounding him. Without further ado, he got out of the bed and started searching for his things. They sat neatly folded on a chair close to the sole window in the room. As he headed for his things, his eyes traveled to the night air outside of the room. He wasn't too high up, maybe two floors...

A thought forming in his head, he quickly dressed, avoiding putting too much immediate pressure on his hands, which were a bit tender. The moment he bent down to get his boots and leg guards on, he winced at the pain coming from his belly. Had some metal shards caught him after all? He didn't have the time or the patience to check right then, so he slowed his movements until he was completely dressed.

With a final gaze through the room, he turned back to the window to search for a latch or a lock. Finding one at the side, he discovered that it opened a little too easily for a hospital room. A smile slowly spread on his lips at the thought of a quick escape. His legs carefully found their footing on the other side of the window, which luckily sported some narrow bricks along the ledge. When his whole body was outside, he leaned slightly forward while gripping the window. The familiar burning sensation returned to his sensitive hands and his eyes widened in fear, head whipping around to look at his grip. It was a brilliant shade of pink. That's when he panicked.

The explosion took out the whole wall of the room he'd been in. If not for the bushes below the window, he might've earned himself quite a few more injuries to add to the roster. However, that wasn't the case, and the bushes did prove somewhat soft despite the prickle in his side. Not bothering to look behind him as he heard yelling voices, Remy darted off as fast as his aching body allowed him, his coat flapping behind him as he ran off into the night.

—

The next morning, he was far enough away from the city (which he'd found out was still Baton Rouge) that he could relax for a bit along the river running beside it. He didn't bother to hunt again lest his headache return.

_Where do I go from here_, he wondered, leaning his head against a tree trunk and staring out at the water. _Dese pains, dey weaken me all over. Seem t' start from my hands an' go up_. He lifted his hands and studied the recently unbandaged length of his palms. They were still raw-looking, but felt a bit better than they had last night. At least the burning was gone.

Shutting his eyes and letting his head fall back, the tree was a comforting presence as his mind wandered to a particular memory he thought he wouldn't bring back up for a long time.

« Nathaniel Essex was not a simple man. His many years working on genetics and other areas of biology had granted him both further intellect and emotional distance. Rather than living, breathing people, he saw others as subjects, as lab rats to be used and to be tested for the greater good of science (along with his own agendas, of course).

When Remy was sent to seek Essex out by request of the Thieves' Guild, he hadn't initially felt any which way about the mission. Indifferent. Unsuspecting.

The lab of Nathaniel Essex was cold and sterile, as he imagined most labs would be. Something about labs made Remy uneasy. The hair on his neck practically stood on end as he confronted his contact. The young intern, he'd assumed, who'd led him to the lab quickly scurried away. _De man of de hour don' like interruptions? _His musings halted for the moment as he addressed the man.

"Dr. Essex? De Guild sent me."

Essex looked up from his work, already expecting a Thieves' Guild representative to appear. He was pleasantly surprised at the eyes of his newfound curiosity, but did not visibly react to the red-on-black phenomena.

"Yes, I have been expecting you. And you are?"

"LeBeau, Remy LeBeau."

"Ah, the youngest son of the Guild patriarch. How highly regarded I must be, for him to send such a diplomat to assist me."

Essex's voice lacked all of the human warmth and sincerity Remy had come to recognize in others. It almost made him shudder. He had come upon his father's bidding, but he hadn't realized what he might be getting himself into. His curiosity, however, always managed to get the best of him, and consequently, he'd end up in another mischievous mess. Lucky for him, he was an expert at weaseling out of sticky situations.

Remy's smirk leeched into his voice. "Y' could say dat, oui. Or dat de Guild don' trust you. Votre choix."

Essex's red eyes crinkled in what Remy assumed was amusement, but he did not directly respond to the comment. Returning his gaze to his work, that machine-like voice continued on a different path:

"What you came for is on that lab table across the room. Send your regards to Monsieur LeBeau for me, won't you?" Essex raised his head for just a second as he continued, "And do please tell him that I will be in contact with your Guild again in due time."

The item which he spoke of was quickly pocketed. Remy turned back when Essex made his request, to which the young man nodded and said, "I'm sure mon père will look forward to it."

After no further discussion, Remy left the lab and felt that an instant weight had been lifted from his chest. He hadn't realized how suffocating the place was, or how powerfully it had affected him. His trembling hand was quickly stuffed into a coat pocket as he left the facility with his father's item. Hopefully he wouldn't have to meet with that "man" again anytime soon. »

After the memory had played through in his mind's eye, his actual eyes snapped open as realization ran through his whole body, causing him to tense up at the thought.

_I have to see de man again_. The thought was ludicrous. He'd gotten the worst kind of feeling from Essex and swore he'd never deal with the man unless it was life or death. _Well technically... _his mind reminded him, as his stomach noisily rumbled to let him know how hungry he was.

_If I can' control dis power again, my life could be in de hands of de angels in no time_. His head fell back against the tree with a dull thud as he fought with his mind against going to see the man his father had called "Sinister." Eventually, after coming up with no better alternatives, he knew he had no choice but to pay the geneticist a visit. The empty hole in his wallet never burned hotter in anticipation of a long road trip.

—

The road to Omaha was long and arduous. At times, he thought he wouldn't make it to the next state, but despite the odds, he always managed to pocket a few extra bills and obtain some extra food for the road. He was beginning to think he was gifted with persuasion whenever people would easily accommodate his requests along the way.

_Or mebe dis Cajun is too irresistible_, his mind quipped in a moment of humor. He'd had far too few such moments in the last seven months. The trip took a few weeks, but finally, he reached the destination he'd visited just a couple of years back.

The building loomed in the dusky sky as he slowly approached. The hidden entrance was just where he'd found it last. Making quiet use of it, he happened upon a few darkened rooms and labs. Somehow, even despite the darkening day, he was sure Essex would still be working. He had that workaholic vibe about him, among other choice things Remy's mind could come up with.

Just as predicted, he came upon a lit up lab a little ways down the sterile hallway. The large glass window and doors gave him an easy view of the entire lab. The man in question was bent over a metal table and he was surrounded by vials of strangely colored liquids. When Remy's eyes narrowed as he followed the line of the table, he couldn't contain the wretch that threatened to weaken him at what he saw. The good doctor was experimenting on a live human child, the arms and legs strapped down and its belly getting slowly gutted. Each organ was still attached and presumably functioning. _I__s de man __**insane**__? _The heat which enveloped Remy caused his hands to glow anew.

Essex hadn't missed the noise coming from outside of his lab. When a pinkish glow began to reflect off of the metal table, his cold lips grew into a menacing smile. He stopped his work and turned toward the glass behind him, his red eyes catching on the familiar face. The threat emanating off of the mutant was of little concern to him as he casually made his way out of the lab and addressed the young man:

"Remy LeBeau, I thought I might be seeing you soon. Please, come in."

Remy's voice was hard and low when he spoke. "Non, I'd rader not, monsieur."

Essex's eyebrows rose in surprise at the man's words. He had panache. Essex liked a good streak of rebellion in his subjects.

"My boy, let's have a reasonable conversation. Tell me why you've come for a visit."

The cold metallic voice grated on his tightening nerves and he started to think, not for the first time, that this was a bad idea. However, reminding himself that he couldn't think of another way, he concentrated on his hands and thankfully managed to reduce the kinetic charge.

"My powers... dey cause me too much pain an' don' respond to my control." His eyes narrowed as he continued, "But know dat I don' trust you one bit, Essex."

At that, Essex smiled again, bringing his hand out to grip Remy's shoulder. "As well you shouldn't, my boy. Come, let's discuss some solutions to your little problem."

He led Remy away from the lab, leaving the child behind in the cold room. A creeping chill wrapped itself around Remy's heart as they walked deeper into the facility.

—

… "Not to worry, my boy, you are in the best of hands." Essex's voice cooly floated over Remy's ears as his hands and feet were being strapped down. It was an unpleasant feeling, willingly losing one's range of motion by being strapped onto a cold metal table. _I really hate labs_, his mind repeated the sentiment of earlier.

"All clear," came the cool female voice, her black hair gently flowing down her back as she turned toward the good doctor.

"Thank you, Claudine," he responded, giving her hand a light touch as she left the room. "She is such a sweet and obedient girl," Essex told Remy, a hint of an inhuman smile touching his dark lips.

"Shall we begin?" The question wasn't really meant for a response, but Remy offered one anyway.

"Essex, what about anesthetic?" Remy's voice didn't betray the slight twinge of fear that he felt, but he was definitely more rigid than usual. That could equally be due to the cool of the table, of course, but he knew this would not be an experience to write home about. The anticipation of his head being cut open left his mouth dry and his eyes blazing.

"Anesthetic, my dear boy? I wouldn't hear of it in your case. I need you fully awake and alert during this procedure, lest it turn out to be a flop." His eyes roamed over Remy's prone form before he offered a rather sinister smile. "And we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

Remy _almost _shuddered.

"Non, we don' want dat," he unwillingly agreed. This was barbaric.

Essex's hands ran mechanically over the exposed armor of Remy's bodysuit, the pink of the torso piece similar in color to his kinetic energy. The scientist's eyes seemed to gleam in interest as he was literally sizing his "subject" up, no doubt thinking up ways he could experiment on Remy further. That would have to wait, however, since he had a very particular and delicate operation to perform today.

Removing his hand from the armor, he allowed it to hover over a nearby set of tools as his other hand checked off a list near Remy's head. "You know, this will most likely hurt to some degree, but I imagine you have been through your fair share of pain." A rhetorical question. Remy's stare hardened in response. Essex turned his head to look at the prone man and that damnable smile was back.

"I thought so. It isn't easy being a mutated specimen of human, is it?" Bait for Remy to snap up, if he were a lesser man. Silence from the metal table.

"Then again," Essex gripped an instrument and brought it over to Remy's forehead, carefully marking the places to cut, "one might equally state that _Homo superior _is truly the correct scientific name for men like yourself."

Remy's jaw tightened in an effort not to pull the bait. He didn't want to play party to Essex's twisted sense of philosophy. Mutant rights was not a subject he had to hear much of during his time with the Guild, but he wasn't oblivious to it. The people of New Orleans simply seemed to accept his presence, or appreciate his membership to one of their beloved Guilds. He wasn't sure which, nor did he care to question it.

The writing utensil was set down, exchanged in favor of a menacingly sharp scalpel. Remy tried to ignore the fact that it was hovering not too far above his eyes. _Dis is f' yo' own benefit, don' worry, ignore de pain..._

Essex paused in mid-hover, his scalpel mere centimeters from his subject's head. "There are parties which might agree or disagree on the matter, one of them being a consistent pain in my side, come to think of it."

The grinding of his teeth became audible.

"Oh, I do apologize, is this conversation inappropriate for the operating room?" Essex's smirk was unavoidable. Remy's eyes grew darker and simultaneously brighter as he tried his best to stare ahead.

The scalpel closed the space and made an unforgiving first cut. Instantly, round crocodile tears pooled up in those distinctive eyes but did not fall, his eyes trying their best to remain fixed on a spot up on the ceiling. The pain was just getting started.

As he dragged the scalpel across Remy's forehead, he shifted his one-sided conversation. "I wonder, has anyone ever taken an interest in your eyes? They are quite distinct, but the science behind them is surprisingly simple."

Remy's said eyes flitted to Essex's face which leaned above his, in an attempt to distract himself from the pain. The look did not go unnoticed by Essex.

"Oh yes, very simple. You have much in common with the typical large feline. I'm sure you have excellent night vision, hm?" At the silence he received, he continued, the scalpel finished with its work and his hands reaching for a menacing bone saw. "The feline tapetum lucidum* is responsible for their iridescence, as I'm sure it is in your case. I imagine you have more than the usual number of rods as well. I doubt anyone would be able to catch you off-guard easily."

The man obviously had not missed the intense glowing which probably indicated Remy's attempts to resist the pain. The concentration alone from the young man impressed the scientist. More and more he realized what a unique individual he had on his hands, and a spark of memory started pulling at the back of his mind. His own eyes narrowed as he brought the bone saw to his subject's head, talking over the suddenly whirring instrument. He also didn't miss the flinch in the young man's face, but still he refused to scream. Very impressive.

"You seem to possess quite an admirable amount of control over your abilities. One might wonder what caused the outburst over the last few months." Bright blood soaked the surgical sheet surrounding Remy's head and neck, drawing Essex's attention as he set down the bone saw, its work complete.

Remy, for his part, had his hands tightly clenched. His jaw was also clenched so hard, he could swear he'd never get it open again. The pain was excruciating, but if he could gain control over his once controllable powers, the agony would be worth it in the end.

Essex busied himself changing out the damp sheet before resuming his conversation. "Now that the easy part is out of the way, we can get to removing that pesky bit of brain tissue causing all of this ruckus in your control, hm?"

He was so easy when discussing the matter of Remy's control, perhaps because he didn't view his subjects as people. The pain in Remy's head was throbbing, reminiscent to the pain he felt when he lost control of his mutant power, but he bore down against the pain and continued to stare ahead, feeling the shift of sheets and staring back up at the ceiling. Any attempt at discussion would surely break his control.

The scientist proceeded to lift the necessary part of his subject's skull and staunched the blood with plenty of cotton, searching for the piece he needed. With an almost predatory smile, he attacked the piece with a grace that should have been outlawed. His tweezers and scalpel rooted around the area for a bit before they found their target and snipped it away.

Remy's eyes suddenly rolled to the back of his head and he lost his grip on both jaw and hands. His whole body seemed to go slack and the monitors attached just under his armor started a constant stream of beeps.

Essex's eyes followed the monitors as he locked away the piece of removed tissue in a safe glass container, wiping up the excess blood and proceeding to close up the area.

Despite the reaction of his body, Remy was still conscious and aware of the pressure in his head. He'd felt the instruments moving around and shuddered internally at the image he no doubt presented. If he were watching everything outside of his body, he didn't doubt he'd probably wretch in disgust. He never did have a strong stomach for surgery.

Essex quickly cleaned up the surgical site as soon as his subject was properly patched up. He tended to Remy's vital signs, making sure to keep his heart rate and blood pressure at normal values. The standby shot of epinephrine wasn't necessary as Remy's eyes slowly fluttered open, an exhausted look crossing his face. Essex _almost _breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to lose this one at any cost. The mutant was proving to be a valuable asset already.

—

A few hours after the procedure, Remy LeBeau found himself in yet another hard bed. Before he was fully awake, his hands gripped onto the surface of the mattress and he felt his stomach do a little flip from the pain that suddenly gripped his body. He was instantly awake then. The pain shot from his head down to his toes. A lesser man might have been screaming implacably by now, but Remy was not one to give in to his bodily pains. This was all for a good cause.

Claudine sat opposite the bed and watched their patient with a steady gaze, eerily similar to that of her superior, Nathaniel Essex. She watched as Remy started to awaken, jotting down little notes about his behavior and overall condition. "Stable and in control." She, too, had been impressed by his strength. She'd seen plenty others give in to the pain and some, even die from it. This one, however, was quite unique. No doubt Essex would find much use for him.

—

Just a few days later, Remy was walking about the facility, following Essex along a pristine hallway to test his abilities once more. The day before had been the first test. Successful. He hadn't experienced the severe pain in his head nor the burning of his hands, the pains of surgery set aside. Even those ebbed slowly away with the good care he was receiving from Claudine. Her distant _click-clacks _following the pair as they entered into a large metal room, armored and guarded against all sorts of energy discharges.

A large tinted window stood on one long end of the room, housing all sorts of controls and a myriad of plans**, as well as recordings of prior sessions, a couple of them labeled "Subject 1189: kinetic discharge tests" and organized by recent dates. Today the date "2/02" was stamped onto the record.

Without much further ado, Remy got to work as Essex and Claudine left the large, open space. Targets of all kinds appeared and precisely charged cards hit each one with ease. The heat of each discharged target had increased dramatically, the room's sensors taking note of each explosion. While his control had returned, he seemed to improve his charging ability and even increase the power. A side effect of the surgery, or the intended result, he couldn't be sure, and Essex had eluded his questions.

Behind the tinted glass, Claudine's hand furiously took notes as she shifted from observing his progress to writing down the results. Her eyes focused on the exploding targets and how hot they burned with each subsequent hit. The sheer force of the man's kinetic charge was amazing. By his own account, he had never demonstrated such power before.

"Didn't I tell you he would be an asset," came Essex's statement. He had discussed the young man's abilities before, claiming that he would one day hone them further when he came for a visit. How right Essex's foresight had been. Remy LeBeau was a proud young man, but when his mutant abilities came into question, he seemed willing to do anything to have control of them. He was so unlike many of the mutants Claudine had met before. Plenty of them were terrified of their own powers and would willingly give them away to anyone else, given the chance.

"Yes, he is proving to be a powerful member of a rather disappointing subspecies, to date."

Essex's smirk conveyed his understanding of her train of thought. He, too, had met mutants unworthy of their abilities. Remy had been an intrigue from the beginning, and had proven quite worthy of his own gifts.

"Soon enough, he will be ready."

Claudine nodded wordlessly, red eyes focused on the man on the other side of the glass.

—

Several weeks had passed as Remy trained and trained, maintaining his excellent control and even surpassing his own goals for his abilities. He had increased his kinetic charges twofold while also improving his marksmanship (like that ever needed much improving to begin with). The cards he always used proved to be the perfect little weapons at his disposal, so Essex had seen to an entire shipment being brought in from the Big Easy. Remy had insisted on nothing but the best New Orleans playing cards, or nothing else. Essex easily complied if only to keep this particular mutant firmly implanted in the palm of his cold hand.

Claudine's notes continued to grow with each test, the results more and more satisfying. Finally, one day, Essex approached Remy with a proposition. One which did not accept "no" for an answer.

Remy's eyes widened at the job offer, but he wisely did not turn it down. It reminded him of some of the more specialized Guild jobs he'd done over the years.

He and Claudine would embark on a short journey to steal some paperwork from a few specific buildings which claimed to be mutant-friendly. The files were packed with information on all classes of mutant, along with personally identifiable traits, names, and addresses. It seemed these facilities were a cover for a larger mutant information-gathering operation connected to a classified agency. Neither Remy or Claudine could further crack the computer files at any of the facilities in order to learn of the agency name.

Although they did their best to avoid detection, a few small fights proved inevitable. Remy expertly dispatched a few guards with his exploding cards while he was shocked to find that their memories were wiped by a telepathically proficient Claudine. His respect for her increased as he watched her in action.

Essex had been glad to receive the files (if a cold smile could be conveyed as glad) and rewarded Remy handsomely. He had placed only mild restrictions on the young man's movements because he knew the thief would find ways out of the facility on his own. The two developed a working relationship that Remy couldn't exactly hate over time, though he certainly never developed much like for the cold scientist. He was living comfortably in a simple room off of one of the many underground hallways of the facility. He hadn't really been curious about the structure he saw above ground, as his jobs kept him satisfied enough for the time being.

Over the months of jobs Essex had him do with Claudine as his sole partner, he'd developed an easy rapport with the mostly silent woman. She had a few too many traits he also saw in Essex, so their conversation was limited and brief, but his respect was unwavering.

He'd managed to send off a short letter to his father during his time with Essex, to which he received a response:

_Mon cher fils,_

_I am glad to hear that you have not yet expired. It seems we trained you to be a survivor, and what training we did not provide, you cleverly acquired on your own. You make a father proud._

_The situation with the Guilds is not much changed, although Julien's followers have slowly started to break away one by one. They have either backed down their original support of in-fighting or have altogether disappeared. There is a temporary treaty in place as the patriarch of the Assassins' has recently passed (seemingly from old age, but one never can know). Marius Boudreaux has inherited the name of La Guilde Souverains, and his daughter is the sole heir to his rule. Belladonna has formally withdrawn any association with you, but has not declared any ill will openly._

_Tension is high but the treaty remains uninterrupted. In time, you may be welcomed home. Marius and I are in talks regarding your fate, should you wish to return to the Guild._

_Keep in touch, mon fils._

_Ton père aimant,  
>Jean-Luc LeBeau<em>

The letter was a relief to Remy, who leaned back against his medium-sized bed and released a breath. _De Guild wasn' too hurt because o' me_, he realized. The sting of the exile was still swimming in his head whenever he thought about home, but his father's words provided a temporary balm against the dull ache. _P'haps dis homme might return home after all_.

As the hours wore on, he'd penned a response to his father with a note that it would be his last for a while. Essex had given him another job that would take some time to complete. This was another reconnaissance mission, though the young thief had a feeling that these little missions were all leading up to something larger than he could expect at this point. He would continue to do his best until the inevitable day presented itself.

—

A/N: * The tapetum lucidum is a membrane in cats' eyes that allows light to be caught more efficiently and increases night vision. It provides something like 6x the night vision that humans have, but more light decreases focus ability. I'm drawing on his control over his kinetic energy, which also allows him to control his eyes' glow even during full artificial light/daylight. That's one of the few things he hasn't lost control over, at least. I also hypothesize that Remy would have more rods in his eyes because they help clarify any surrounding motion which definitely aids in his being an outstanding thief. They also help to increase focus, since the increased light would give him fuzzy vision otherwise.

** This is a deliberate play on Xavier's Danger Room, but it's not an outright copy. There's actually a reason for Essex to have one of these, and that reason will be explained later. Dun dun dun!

French translations:  
>votre choix = "your choice," formal "your"<br>_Mon cher fils _= "my dear son"  
><em>La Guilde Souverains <em>= "the guild's monarch"  
><em>Ton père aimant <em>= "your loving father"

So, what do you think thus far? Like it, dislike it? Either way, review! Please and thank you. :]


	9. Tensions arise

A/N: Back to Rogue's part of the world.

—  
>Ch 9—Tensions arise<br>—

The summer had passed pleasantly enough. Her birthday was a simple affair made up of good food (which she had insisted on cooking, because no one else seemed to get it quite right), good drinks, and enjoyable company. Kitty, Jean, Ororo, Raven, and Irene all relaxed in the sitting room post-dinner, laughing and talking about all kinds of things that were going on. Rogue reclined easily in the large sofa flanked by Raven and Kitty. She leaned her head against Raven's shoulder while the older woman gently ran her hand through her hair, a maternal aura surrounding her.

"But did you _see _his face? Oh my gosh, it was _so adorable_!" Kitty's excitable voice was difficult to ignore. Rogue smiled widely at her roommate's enthusiasm as the brunette started to recount that morning's event to the other ladies in the room.

Her newest boy target had come as a surprise to both parties earlier that day—as she unceremoniously bumped into him while she and Rogue were out shopping on Magazine Street. She'd found some _adorable _pieces of jewelry and little knick-knacks for her side of the room, as well as a last minute gift for Rogue (whom she told to go look at something interesting while she bought the item). When they finally stepped out of the quaint shop, Kitty bouncily leading the way, her nose made acquaintance with a black t-shirt.

"Hey, watch—" The owner's voice stopped mid-rebuff when he saw the source of his "attacker." Brown eyes softened as he held onto her shoulders so she wouldn't fall. "You okay?" Even his voice had lost its edge.

Kitty, stunned into silence for a few moments, merely nodded her head. Her high ponytail bobbed along with her head, making her expression that much more sickeningly cute.

_This poor, unsuspecting stranger_. Rogue stood aside from the shop's entrance and merely raised a brow, having an idea where this was going. She could practically see the sparks flying between the two.

"You sure?" His concern was heart-warming. Or apparently knee-melting, in Kitty's case. She just nodded and leaned a bit into his arms, making him think she might actually pass out. The panic on his face was plain as he led them to a nearby cozy little table sheltered by an umbrella. Sitting her down, he sat opposite her and leaned in toward her, making sure she wasn't actually passed out.

Rogue thought it wise to stick close to the pair, but she didn't want to butt into the situation until absolutely necessary. Who was she to infringe on Kitty's boy-parade.

Just then, Kitty's hazel eyes came back into focus and she turned toward the concerned young man. A smile slowly decorated her pretty glossed lips. "Thanks. Sorry I wasn't looking where I was going, it was just so _dumb_ of me—"

"Hey, it's okay. Nothing's seriously hurt, right?" He immediately asked. Concern was dripping from every word.

Shaking her head again, she confirmed that nothing was hurt and that she was really quite fine. Back to her cheery self, Kitty introduced herself to him and learned that his name was Lance Alvers. And he went to their school! And he was about to be a junior, no less. Since Kitty was going in as a freshman late next month, she now had something to look forward to! Aside from getting to be around her roommate and their friends Ororo and Jean more, that is.

The moment was finally over when he reached for her hand and gave it a very light shake, apparently afraid that he'd break her. Her smile was bright as she bid him a cheerful goodbye. Rogue heard them agree to meet later and she couldn't help the knowing smirk on her face as she approached her roommate, taking a seat in the previously occupied chair across from her.

"You an' yo' boys, Kitty, Ah swear." Jade eyes twinkled teasingly.

"Oh, wasn't he just _gorgeous?_" The brunette's eyes lit up with this dreamy shine that just had to be unnatural. She leaned back in her chair and sighed wistfully. "And his name, _Lance_," her voice practically caressed the boy's name, "what a wonderful name." Hooked. That's what she was. Rogue shook her head in amusement.

"Uh huh. Well, what say we head back to the house now, befo' you die of happiness raht here!"

Kitty nodded slowly but maintained her dreamy expression. Rogue's gloved hand resorted to tugging the other girl along as they headed back to the house to celebrate her birthday.

And that's how they all ended up laughing in the sitting room, each enjoying their cup of cocoa or coffee and one another's company. So far, Rogue's birthday was turning out just as she'd hoped.

—

The rest of the summer passed simply enough. Since her birthday, Kitty had seen Lance quite a few times as he'd first introduced himself to Raven and Irene, and then started coming by more frequently to take Kitty to various places around the city. Although Raven and Irene had initially expressed concern because he was two years older than the brunette, Rogue managed to assure them that their budding friendship was purely innocent. She'd seen for herself that Lance was a caring person who was polite and all things sweet toward Kitty. He certainly seemed as smitten with her as she was with him.

Rogue, for her part, was equal parts happy for her roommate as she was jealous. It was really unbecoming of her to be jealous of something so petty, but to her, it was impossible to obtain even the smallest touch from anyone without fear of hurting them. For each time she had to sit through another "Lance is so wonderful" or "Lance did _this_ for me," she had started to submerge herself in a similar routine: write in her journal, read, take meals in her room, sulk, gloom, avoid others, etc.

Each week that passed found her more and more gloomy, while Kitty grew more (impossibly) bubbly. Soon enough, her clothing started to match her inner emotions. There were now several "shades" of black incorporated into her wardrobe as she started the new school year, and though she hadn't made that many friends, those she did have noticed the difference. However, since she pointedly refused to spend much time with anyone throughout the rest of July and August, they hadn't been privy to this new wardrobe adjustment in their friend. Kitty had seen it, but she was far too preoccupied with Lance to take much notice. Yet another reason for Rogue to feel so down. She felt like she was back to day one at school: outcast and alone.

The fourteen-year-old desolately passed by the first few weeks of school without much contact with her roommate, whom she made a point to evade as much as possible. With each short encounter, she could feel her jealousy swell up within her as Kitty started gushing about how "great Lance is, and he's such a sweetheart that he bought me this bracelet, and oh my gosh how _cute_ is he when—"

Rogue was quickly drifting away from the roommate she'd once shared a significant portion of her thoughts with. Ororo had noticed the change over the summer, the gradual declines to any time out, but she hadn't pushed the younger girl to spend time with herself and Jean after the initial "no thanks." Jean started to _feel_ how gloomy Rogue had become and the redhead shared her concerns with Ororo. They finally agreed to confront the younger girl after those first few weeks of classes. They caught Rogue at her locker and made sure to keep her surrounded so she wouldn't simply run.

"What do y'all want," she started coldly, noticing them walking toward her and turning her back on them. They hadn't done anything in particular to agitate her, but as jealousy engulfed her heart, Rogue started to push everyone away. Jean could feel the waves of bitterness rising off of the young teen and she shot Ororo a concerned glance. The silver-haired girl pinned Rogue's back with her gaze.

"We felt it was time to have a rather serious discussion with you, if you are willing to hear us out."

Rogue shrugged her shoulders while she rifled through various things in her locker, keeping her gloved hands busy with anything just so she wouldn't have to turn back toward them and look at their pitying expressions. She didn't want to have to deal with anyone's sorry looks because she'd become the outcast again.

"Can we go someplace a little less crowded?" Jean's soft voice dragged a sigh out of Rogue before she slammed her locker door and made it an obvious effort to even turn to look at them briefly. When she saw their concerned looks, she hauled her gaze along the floor and occupied her idle gloved hands with some textbooks.

"Let us head this way," started Ororo, indicating a direction with her hand. Jean took the lead and Rogue trudged after the redhead, Ororo following behind.

When the trio reached a patch of trees behind the school, away from student eyes, Jean halted and turned to Ororo. The beautifully tanned girl gave Rogue a serious look before starting:

"We notice you have been rather isolated lately, and while we are concerned, we did want to give you your space." She ignored the snorted laugh her words received. "Rogue, what is it _we_ have done to earn your derision?"

At the question, Rogue brought her gaze up to meet Ororo's. Her eyes were defiant but softened only a little at Ororo's questioning gaze. "It's not somethin' y'all've done, honestly, it's _me_. Ah know how stupid and cliché that sounds—" She turned her eyes away from the probing blues and stared hard at the grass instead, "but it's lahk Ah cain't get away from this stupid feeling."

Jean's eyebrows lifted in surprise, not having expected Rogue to actually tell them what was wrong. "Do you mind talking about it, Rogue? We're really only here to help, as your friends."

The word "friends" coaxed a laugh out of Rogue before she could hold back the impulse. She was being far too bitter, too cruel toward the two older girls, but since she was hurting, she couldn't help lashing out like a caged animal at anything in her way. She was only going by instinct at this point. Ororo's brows knit together in reaction.

"Do you not believe we are friends?"

"Ah don't even know what friends means anymoah." Rogue's voice was harsh and laced with hurt. She knew she shouldn't be taking her anger out on the two girls. _They didn't do anythin' to meh, but they sho don't know how Ah feel, neither_, rationalized her mind. Instead of trying to share her experiences, she tried to push them away further so they couldn't make her think too deeply about her actions.

"Oh Rogue, you know that's not true!" Jean's voice was still soft but it gained a sympathetic edge. "You know we're here for you. We just want you to let out what you're feeling so you can get past it."

"Please listen to Jean, Rogue. We only want what is best for you—"

Suddenly Rogue was pushing away from the two older girls and starting to march off. "Ah don't want ta talk, so leave me alone!" They were hitting too close to home and her defense mechanism started to kick in. The remorse didn't take over till later that day.

—

Rogue sat on the roof of the school, arms wrapped around her knees, gaze staring down at the sidewalk in front of the building. She tried to keep her mind on the last few classes and the most recent homework she'd gotten through over lunch. Rather mundane things, all in all.

The wind was just starting to pick up as she sat there on her own. Late October weather in New Orleans was pleasantly lacking in the usual humidity. Her eyes closed to take in the breeze as it caressed her face. Normally she would have gone straight home, but today it felt right to just sit here and enjoy the weather. She was so preoccupied that she didn't notice the small group appear on the roof heading toward her.

"Rogue?" The gentle voice pulled her out of her reverie. She looked up and to her left. Green eyes met blue.

"Oh, hi." Ororo Munroe's serene expression brought a sort of calm to Rogue's shoulders. It had been a couple of weeks since their conversation, enough time for the younger of the two to think more about their exchanged words.

"We thought you may finally desire some company," Ororo stated, sitting next to Rogue and waving her companions over. A reluctant smile spread across Rogue's lips at seeing Jean, but it was quickly replaced with a scowl when Kitty quietly came over to join the small group.

Turning away from her roommate, she spoke almost in a whisper. "Thanks for thinkin' of meh. Ah was just up heah lettin' mah mind roam, that's all."

The elder two girls exchanged glances before offering Rogue understanding smiles. Jean started up the next line of conversation.

"I understand what you may be feeling—" she caught herself before she could possibly annoy Rogue and began anew. "What I _mean_ to say is that I know it can be hard to deal with some of these issues you've been faced with lately. But you have to realize that you're truly not alone."

Rogue nodded before turning her face back toward the open air, the breeze offering another gentle caress. Her voice sounded far-off when she spoke.

"Ah fahnally started ta re'lize that when you two wouldn' leave me the heck alone." Her head tilted a bit as she passed them a glance.

Kitty piped up in curiosity, "What do you mean?"

Rogue suppressed a frown and continued her thought aloud, "Well, Ah always thought Ah was some freak, ya know. Someone who was destined to be diff'rent. But you—" She finally graced Kitty with a look, something meaningful past the jealousy, "even though Ah've been feelin' nothin' but disdain toward you, ya know what it feels lahk. Ah both hate that and appr'ciate it." She didn't add the deeper thought that plagued her mind, instead choosing to turn back toward the wind in an attempt to drown out the inevitable. November was just a few days away. She clearly remembered what date was coming up.

Kitty's eyes widened as she took in her roommate's words. As much as her roommate might try to convince herself that she hadn't paid attention, she did notice that Rogue was getting gloomier by the day, so to finally hear her speak about it to others was a pleasant change. Her roommate was finally getting past the pent up emotions and was letting go of her shell. But even with this progress, Kitty felt the tears stinging her eyes. She didn't want Rogue to hate her or feel ill will toward her—she _thought_ they were good friends, after all.

"I'm—I'm s—sorry if I ever did anything to—" Kitty couldn't continue her sentence as the hurt gripped her. She honestly thought they'd made a connection last year and grew together as friends, but obviously Rogue didn't feel that way. Her normally cheery demeanor was swiftly taking a sharp turn as she backed away from the small group, ignoring the look that Jean gave her, like she could read her mind. She turned from the group and left before the tears could fall.

They all let her go as they saw the tears welling up in her pretty hazel eyes. Jean felt her heart lurch in sympathy and Ororo shook her head, almost in disappointment. This entire situation was being blown completely out of proportion, and yet, they still had no cause for all of Rogue's behavior.

"Rogue," Jean started, honing back in on the younger girl with a firm tone to her voice, "I _know_ there's something else bothering you. Kitty's happiness shouldn't be such a bother to you, but even if that was the only thing, I'd say you need to do some serious growing up—"

Rogue snapped her face back to glare at Jean as she sat abruptly from her sitting position. The flash in her eyes might have been menacing to anyone else. "Don't you go tellin' me what Ah need to and don't need ta do, Jean Grey! You ain't mah momma!"

Heat filled Rogue's cheeks and she painted a fiery picture, standing there with hackles upturned. The breeze that passed over the girls only served to enrage her further as she thought about how quiet it was before _they'd_ interrupted her thoughts.

Ororo also stood, placing a careful hand on Rogue's shoulder. "When you need to talk, we will be here." And then she turned toward Jean, indicating the exit.

Jean's gaze lingered on Rogue for only a moment longer before she shook her head in what looked like disappointment and followed Ororo, leaving the angry girl alone with her musings.

She stood there, heart racing, cheeks still inflamed, and hands clenched tightly, watching as the two girls left. She hadn't meant to get so uppity. _What's wrong with meh?_ She had to wonder if all of this inner rage was due to Kitty's obvious joy or to the happiness she'd missed out on when _he_ left—

_No! Quit it!_ Her eyes wrenched up as she tried to shake the thought out of her mind. A voice which she'd long thought was finally gone haunted her for just a moment: _at least __**he**__ got away befo' ya could do that ta anyone else_. Shaking her head to free herself from the voice, she no doubt looked like a mad person as she ran back down into the building and took her anger out on her locker; a neatly rounded dent was enough evidence to show for it.

The thought came unbidden: glowing red eyes gazing upon her form as she slept in her bed, as smooth as his voice had been. Rogue squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against the dented up locker, trying her best to take calming breaths. When the image finally left her, she ignored some of the odd looks she was receiving from the after school crowd as she purposefully trudged back home.

All that was seen of her was practically a blur and then the slam of a door. Raven's eyes followed the movement before she walked up to the door and knocked lightly.

"Rogue?" Her questioning voice went unanswered for a moment, so she knocked a bit more forcefully. "Rogue, answer me."

"Ah don't wanna talk!" The voice from within the room was muffled.

"Rogue, honey, at least let me come in." Raven's voice purred out in comfort, finally causing the door to slowly unlock and pull inward. Rogue's tear-streaked face greeted her before she flopped back into her bed, her back toward the world.

Raven slowly made her way to her foster daughter's bed, gently stroking her white-streaked auburn hair as she sat at Rogue's back. She didn't say a word, respecting her daughter's earlier statement.

After a few minutes of feeling her hair being smoothed down her back and no words interrupting her thoughts, she turned her reddened face toward the woman she'd been learning to call "momma" and withheld a powerful urge to cuddle into her and pour her heart out.

Raven's expression was gentle and understanding. It undid Rogue's resolve.

"Oh momma!" Raven suddenly found herself enveloped by a sniffling fourteen-year-old. Her smile was all empathy and gentleness as she continued to stroke Rogue's hair.

The distraught girl took a few deep breaths to calm herself before she met Raven's unwavering gaze. "Momma, c'n Ah have mah own room?"

Raven's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise at her daughter's words. "If that's what you'd like, Rogue, of course."

Rogue felt her expression release the tension it had previously held. She nuzzled into her foster mother's arms and felt much more at ease than she'd been in a while.

Raven's growing smile was missed by the girl in her arms. She finally felt the young teen opening up more to her, and soon enough, she would be ready to take her place in the plans so carefully constructed over the last few decades.


End file.
